A Pirate and A Princess
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: What happens when a pirate stumbles into a bar and finds himself a bit enamored by a local girl? (Hook/Clara fic because why not.)
1. Chapter 1

Nina had dragged her to a pub. It wasn't really Clara's thing, but her friend was in need and maybe a few drinks wouldn't hurt. She slid her finger slowly over the mouth of her mug, listening intently to the young woman arguing that maybe men weren't the best option in life. Maybe, Nina slurred, maybe men were pointless and brute and things to be used and tossed aside – like they treated women.

"Nina, let's not be rash," Clara warned as Nina slapped her arms against the table and complained. "There are a lot of really good things about men."

"As a species?"

"They're not a _species_," Clara laughed.

Nina pointed, "They're totally another species – like from space. _Space blokes_. Maybe there are space blokes and normal blokes and all the normal blokes are in Norway."

Eyeing the other woman, Clara shook her head and declared, "Cutting you off."

"But I've just gotten started," Nina whined.

Clara sighed, "Yup, definitely cutting you off."

"Why'd he do it, Clara?" The question was pained and honest and Clara opened her mouth to respond, but remained silent a moment, staring into her friend's eyes. There wasn't an easy answer, and she wasn't sure what her friend needed to hear.

Men did all sorts of things without provocation, without reason, _without thinking_. They could be gentle and kind and wonderful and they could turn around and be cruel and selfish and stupid, but Clara knew women could – _and definitely were_ – the same. Of course, she knew she'd never cheat on her boyfriend, if she ever got around to finding one. And she knew Nina didn't deserve to be cheated on as her friend had been loyal to the moron who'd put them in this situation: crying in a pub and questioning what she'd done wrong.

"It wasn't anything you did," Clara assured, knowing it was the truth. "I don't know why he did it – _lost his bloody mind_ – but it certainly wasn't you. He obviously doesn't deserve you and you shouldn't spend another moment thinking on it."

Nina nodded, slowly, and then dropped her temples to her fingertips, snorting down at the table before muttering, "Maybe I should go out, do something drastic," she glanced up and around the pub, "Pick up a new bloke."

Clara laughed aloud and reached out to stop her friend from leaving the booth, "Nina, no, _no_, you're not just going to pluck yourself a new set of regrets we'll be talking about tomorrow!"

With a frown, Nina nodded and dropped back against the plush cushions that gave a tired wheeze. "Maybe just back to the flat for a good sleep."

Reaching out to take her the tops of her hands, Clara told her firmly, "Good sleep, good cry, and some tea."

Nina laughed, and turned her palms up so Clara could clasp her hands, giving her friend a small nod of assurance. They would go back to Nina's; she would put a kettle on, listen to her cry just a bit more, and once she'd fallen asleep, she would… the door burst open and Clara turned slowly towards the sound, one eyebrow arching high as she took in the odd man now stumbling inside with a sly grin and a mess of black hair.

He seemed enchanted by the place, peering around and almost immediately catching her eyes, which widened as he moved towards her with intent. Clara shifted back in the booth and turned her gaze to her friend, still looking at the stranger.

"Excuse me, milady, if I could interrupt for a moment to ask a question," he drawled.

Clearing her throat, Clara turned and lifted her chin slightly, trying to give an air of disinterest while taking in the red vest that revealed a light sprinkling of chest hair, the long leather coat with the embroidered cuffs that swayed slightly from his momentum towards her as he stood, waiting. "Ask away," she managed, meeting the devilish spark in his bright blue eyes, vaguely aware of Nina kicking her underneath the table.

With a half grin, he asked, "What is the year?"

"The what?" Clara repeated, bending slightly, as if the distance between them had been at fault for the misunderstanding and she instantly regretted it because he shifted forward as well, nose now mere inches from hers as his smile spread and his brow softened.

"The year," he whispered.

"It's 2012," she responded in kind.

The man released a laugh as he straightened before allowing, "Missed the mark by a bit more than a stone's throw, Smee."

Clara shifted back to look for his companion, but found herself exchanging a confused look with a few other patrons who shrugged and went back to their drink obviously content with imagining this fellow had simply had one too many at another pub. And Clara agreed, head tilting back to observe the jewelry on his fingers and the sheath of a sword at his ornate belt.

"Lost your mate?" Clara questioned, watching him turn before he swung back and stared up at the ceiling in obvious frustration.

He narrowed his eyes at her and teased, "Would you like to replace him? I've got plenty of rum on the ship and a hearty appetite for a good time, love."

Nina snorted.

"She's invited too," he added, "If you're into that sort of…"

"No," Clara laughed. "No, and we really should be going, sir."

"Sir," the man tilted back to repeat. "I quite like the sound of that."

With an amused huff, Clara declared with a look over his appearance, "Much loftier than _pirate_."

"So much so," he replied with a small wag of his head.

Clara shifted to the edge of her seat and she cleared her throat at him, watching as he took a step back with a half bow and then grinned up at her. Knowing he was affecting her despite her best efforts to remain unaffected and Clara got the impression that the smug gentleman in front of her was used to the reaction. She steeled herself and hopped onto the wooden floor, bumping him away to offer her friend an arm.

"We should maybe take him up…" Nina started.

"You, hush," Clara spat.

"Your friend has a touch of rational thought," the man offered, waiting.

"Nina," her friend told him readily.

Clara's head snapped to the other woman, anger burning her face before she told her, "Really, Nina."

"Clara, come on, he's a handsome enough bl…"

"No," Clara replied.

"Clara," the man said lightly, waiting for her to meet his eyes again before he bowed lowly and then looked up from under his brow deviously to allow, "Killian Jones, at your service, should you be needing any."

Rolling her eyes, Clara told him firmly, "I shant, actually, but thanks for the offer. Should I be needing entertainment for a girl's party, I could give you a ring – do I blow into a conk shell, or send up smoke signals?"

He stood straight as Clara pushed past him, Nina hanging on her arm. Gaining a few odd looks from the others in the pub – others, she knew, who might know her father and ask him about his daughter's drunken friend or her feisty exchange with this strange man – Clara made her way to the front door, turning only when Killian shouted her name. And when she looked, she instantly regretted it seeing the smug look of satisfaction on his face, that she'd turned when called.

"Be seeing you, Clara," he told her plainly.

With a shake of her head and a simple smile, she replied, "No, _you won't_."

But he was still smiling and, despite herself, as she walked out into the snow, she grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

Nina's flat wasn't too far, Clara had made sure it was in walking distance as she couldn't really afford the cost of a ride, nor could her friend, and by the time they reached it, the alcohol had taken hold and the other woman was clinging to her, muttering something about the stove. Clara gripped her around the back and tugged her up the steps, trying to get her inside of the building and then into the elevator, and then across the hallway, and she burst into the flat and dropped her into her sofa.

"Good," she sighed, "Out," she added.

Curling up on the greenish couch, Nina immediately began to snore and Clara frowned, wondering whether she should pick her up and drag her to the bed, or if she'd be alright there. She imagined the woman would wake with a terrible headache in the morning and she felt horrible for scribbling a note and leaving it with a bottle of Aspirin on the kitchen counter before going back out into the night air.

She wrapped her arms around herself and began the long walk home, knowing her father would still be awake, some late night show playing mutedly as he ran over the crossword puzzle in his lap and she smiled when she pushed through the door and found him taking a kettle of hot water off the stove for tea. "Perfect timing, dad," she called softly, watching the surprise flutter across his face before he smiled warmly at her.

"Nina alright?" He asked.

With a nod, she explained, "A bit punched, but she'll be fine in the morning."

"Ah, you've never had to deal with a broken heart," her father told her with a nod of his head, "At least not of this nature," he added sadly. "It's gonna take time."

Clara took the mug he handed her and she inhaled the scent of honey and ginger before warming her lips at the edge of the ceramic, slowly allowing the liquid to heat her insides as she closed her eyes. Her father chuckled and when she looked at him she knew what he was thinking before he said it.

"Next time, you should take a thicker coat."

With a laugh, she declared, "It's frozen outside – should I have taken an igloo?"

"Oh Clara," he sighed, "Nina's gonna need more than a night of drinks. Wasn't she with this fellow for over a year now? College ending soon, she probably sees it as the start of a line of terrible things."

She didn't want to think about college ending, about going out into the world, about _terrible things_. "Losing someone isn't indicative of a pattern," she told him, and they exchanged a glance, neither saying what was on their mind.

Of course Clara was thinking about her mum. About how she thought her world would fall apart in the weeks after her death. Instead she thought about how it didn't. About how she cried occasionally, but decided that the world had to move on and she'd have to move on with it or get lost in it and Clara wasn't fond of getting lost.

Her father touched her shoulder and nodded, "You should get some rest."

"It's not late," she countered defensively as he laughed.

"Not telling you to go to bed, Clara, just making a suggestion."

With a nod, she began to walk to her room before turning and asking, "You watched the news, right?" He nodded. "There some sort of… is there anything going on?" Gripping her mug, she asked bluntly, "Are there pirates in Lancashire?"

Dave eyed his daughter and then playfully asked, "How much have you had to drink?"

She turned away, cheeks burning slightly before shifting back and shrugging, "There was just an odd fellow at the pub, look like he'd fallen off a ship."

"Maybe he had," Dave responded with a tilt of his mug in her direction. "All sorts of strange blokes out in the world – you're bound to run across one or two in your time."

"One or two," Clara laughed. "A bit more than I care to handle."

He raised an eyebrow at her and told her, "As your father, I'd advise you to not handle them at all. Just mind yourself and keep walking. Especially with Nina like this – she's liable to decide a pirate's exactly what she needs."

"Or a space bloke," Clara said absently.

"What?" Her father asked in amusement.

She laughed, giving him a shake of her head and a simple, "Nothing." She lifted her mug slightly with a nod of thanks and headed down the hallway to her room, sitting at the edge of the bed and taking another long sip with an exhale as it dropped into her stomach soothingly. Always room for tea, she knew. Kicking off her boots, she set the mug down and fell backwards in bed, deep in sleep when her father came in and lifted her up to slip her under the covers, pecking a gentle kiss at her temple.

"Pirates and space blokes," he laughed quietly as he pushed the sheets to her chin, "Neither would be good enough."

* * *

Killian had been thrown out of the pub and he wandered the streets with an odd grin. The portal should have taken him from Neverland back to his home and, he supposed, it had, just… a bit further into the future than he'd intended. With a chuckle at a pair of women in tall shoes and multi-colored hair, he wondered what he had intended. Had he intended anything at all?

"Oi, watch it," a man grunted as his back collided with the man's front. "Really should watch your step. Step on the wrong thing, step into the wrong thing, things change – things happen, things…" he looked Killian over with an expression he couldn't define. Surprise? Not quite. Amusement? Maybe a little. Alien? Absolutely.

He smiled, hands rising slightly as he eyed the lanky fellow standing before him adjusting the round-rimmed glasses on his long nose and going back to examining an odd device in his hands. "London's really gone to the dogs," he sighed.

"Not yet," the other man offered with a small wave of his hands. "At least, _no_. No," he repeated before straightening and laughing. "Sorry," he told him, smirk instantly disappearing from his face. "Bit early in time, do you have the time? The year, specifically."

He perked because he did have that answer. "2012, or so I've been told."

"Should be here," the man muttered, tapping the device that suddenly dinged.

"Lost someone?" Killian questioned, bending slightly to try and catch the green eyes that sparked instantly, as though he'd stumbled upon some wondrous thought. "Ah, lost a woman, mate?"

Looking flummoxed, the other man scratched at the back of his neck.

"Always a woman," Killian laughed. "Try the pub, back a bit," he gestured, "Just met quite the lass just a few moments ago."

There was a nod, absent in his continued examination of the device he now banged against his thigh before hissing in pain. "Pub, a bit back," he repeated and Killian lifted his hand in a half-wave as he watched him go, "Good luck with that," he called.

The fellow in the bow tie and brown tweed jacket nodded and continued walking.


	3. Chapter 3

Clara knew she should have been surprised when she saw the black leather clad pirate walking in her direction on campus, idiotic grin on his face – as though he'd located something he'd lost and was pleased to have found it – and she gathered her books and tried desperately to cram them into her bag. She had to study; she had exams, and she didn't have time for this foolishness because Nina was texting her as well. Something about meeting her at the café for coffee.

Of course, she wasn't surprised; she was frustrated.

"Fancy meeting you here," Killian offered as he came to a stop in front of her, bending to lift the last of her books into her hand so she could hold it tightly to her chest. "Was hoping I'd get the chance to apologize, putting you on the spot the way I had last night when you were obviously consoling your friend."

Her mouth opened and then shut because she hadn't been expecting an apology. She'd been expecting another witty come-on, or a snappy bit of innuendo. "Apology accepted," she managed.

He looked down at her books and then up at the building, "Schooling? For women?"

"Schooling for all," Clara corrected.

With a nod, he offered, "Commendable."

"Are you daft?"

Smiling, he tilted his head, "Daft?"

"Silly? Stupid? Slow?"

"Acquainted with the term, dear – why should I be daft?"

"Because you…" she started, then shook her head, "Apology accepted and good day."

Turning towards the café, phone in her free hand, ready to dial her friend, Clara listened as his footsteps followed and when she glanced at him, he smiled and coyly told her, "Shouldn't you apologize to me now?"

"For what?"

He gestured back, "Daft? Not _actually_ a compliment, lass."

"You're freaking me out, d'you know that?"

He stopped. "Now _that_ term I'm not familiar with," he allowed, brow coming together in a confused knot and Clara glanced at him, her steps slowing.

She stared a moment, then asked, "Where are you from?"

"London," he smiled.

"Good, not far from home," she told him on a nod.

He shrugged, grin returning before admitting, "Been gone a while though."

"Where'd you gone?" Clara asked curiously.

"Neverland."

"HA!" Clara laughed a second time, loudly, and she took a step away from him, pointing a moment and then asking, "Is this a trick. Some sort of joke? Someone trying to take the mickey out of me? Because you're not really a pirate; there's no such place as Neverland."

Moving closer to her, he breathed in her face, "Would you like to see my ship?"

"Is that some sort of metaphor?" She spat back.

"Metaphor?" He questioned.

"Your _ship_?"

"My ship," he repeated.

Clara considered him and then asked, "The Jolly Roger?"

He smiled, this time in surprise. "You know my ship."

Reaching down, Clara took his hands and raised them and then dropped them away, "Missing a hook, aren't you?"

"Why would I have a hook?" He asked, shaking his head, perplexed.

She gestured at him, "Captain… pilots… nevermind."

"Neverland," he corrected.

"No," she pointed, "You're either pulling a prank, or you're insane and either way, I don't have the time, nor the patience, for it."

Clara moved quickly now, fingers pushing against buttons, but he pulled the phone from her hand and glanced at it questioningly as she stopped and watched him. "Saw a young man prancing about with something like this yesterday – how are these gadgets useful."

"It's a phone," Clara told him slowly.

"And what is the purpose of a phone?" He asked brightly, "Come on, last question, Clara."

Biting her lip, she gave him an awkward smile before raising her palm and she waited until he dropped the item into her hand before telling him quietly, "Fine, playing along – a phone is a means of communication."

"Means of communication with whom."

"With whomever you'd like, so long as you have the number – and sometimes even if you don't."

"Don't follow," he pointed, "You communicate via that."

"Yes," she laughed. Because maybe this was amusing and whoever had played the prank, well, they'd picked the perfect man for the job. And then Nina's voice called out from the red device in her hand and she watched Killian's eyes widen as he snatched it away again.

"Hello? Clara, hello, tell me I'm not crazy because I could swear I'm hearing that pirate's voice from the pub which means we actually saw a pirate guy at the pub and I wasn't just that drunk."

"_Hello_!" Killian bellowed and Clara plucked the phone away from him, hanging up on her friend and then hissing at the phone. "Does it bite? Is it dangerous?" He asked, hand instantly pulling the sword from its sheath and aiming it at Clara and she winced when she heard several other students in the vicinity begin to scream.

"_Put that away_," she hissed before turning and giving the crowd an anxious laugh, "Just a play, rehearsing, drama major," she pointed. "Put. It. Away!"

He was hesitant, watching her pocket the item before putting his sword back behind the cover of his long coat and Clara watched him as he turned to look around, studying the students who were slowly going back to their games. "Sorry for the…" he dropped a hand to his sword. "It struck me as witchcraft," he pointed to her pocket.

Clara nodded slowly and then asked, "You're really not from around here, are you."

"Not from around this time, pet," he corrected.

Pushing her last book into her bag before adjusting it on her shoulder, Clara swallowed hard against the stupid question she was about to ask and the stupid decision she had just made and she shot, "Where's your ship?"


	4. Chapter 4

They walked. It didn't seem like he had a problem with it, nor did she. Clara had gotten used to walking and if he were telling the truth – that he was some sort of pirate lost in time, who kept looking at cars in a strange way, or staring menacingly at stereos that they passed – then she didn't want to know the commotion he would cause if they tried to ride the tube. He might insist they'd just entered some sort of burrowing dragon and decide he had to slay it with his sword.

Of course, she also knew, walking had its disadvantages. She was beginning to get hungry and her feet were starting to hurt, and the sun was now hanging lower in the sky, threatening to start setting in the next few hours. But it was kind of entertaining, trying to find ways to explain the world to him. All the while pretending that maybe this was some elaborate joke and Nina would jump out of a trash bin with a laugh for her any moment now.

She eyed his hands absently, because if he was supposed to be Captain Hook, she wasn't sure why he still had both of his hands and anyone playing as thought out of a prank as this should know he didn't receive his name for his fighting style. Then again, she considered, he didn't call himself Captain Hook – he called himself Killian Jones and she was certain she wasn't aware of that name. With a smile, she decided not to ask him about it, to see how long before he brought it up. Or, she bit her lip, Peter Pan.

"You've been grinning as though you harbor a funny tale – I'd love to hear it," he finally sighed, glancing down at her as the smell of the sea began to waft around them.

Clara found herself involuntarily inhaling because she loved the ocean. She could remember sitting next to the lapping waves, huddled under a blanket between her parents, watching the sun set. Glancing up at the eager eyes that waited, she nodded, "I'm trying to believe you're really a pirate; not really something we get here every day."

"There are no more pirates?" He asked sadly.

She shook her head, then shrugged, "Suppose there will always be pirates of some sort, but you're," she gestured at his outfit, "You're the swashbuckling kind from fairy tales. I half expect a parrot to suddenly land on your shoulder, asking for crackers."

He released a small laugh and told her, "You amuse me, Clara. When you're not intent on insulting me."

"You're still freaking me out."

Tilting his head, he told her, "You never quite explained that one to me."

"Scaring me," she rephrased.

He raised his hands to his chest and feigned insult, "Scaring you? Come now, how have I managed to frighten you in any way."

She laughed, "Maybe things are different where… when you came from, but in today's world, one doesn't just walk into a pub _in that_, _with a sword_, and start talking to a girl, much less one like me."

Killian shifted to look at her and she could see the confusion in his eyes as he questioned, "Why _wouldn't_ they?"

"Why _would_ they?" She challenged.

He dropped a hand to wave over the space next to her and admitted, "You're quite oblivious to the fact that you're lovely, that's endearing."

She didn't know whether to thank him or punch him, but she could feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment and she heard him chuckle. "This your ploy? Charm women with your pirate outfit and your unexpected compliments."

Tilting his head towards her, he whispered, "You're coming with me to my ship, aren't you?"

Clara pointed, "Only because I think you're full of it." Then she added, to his confusion, "_Lying_."

He laughed, "If that were true, you'd be a fool."

"A fool?"

"If you thought that," he nodded, "You'd practically be letting me walk you down the plank."

"Are you going to make me walk the plank," Clara teased, smirking up at him and watching him stop and turn to give her a considerate look before shaking his head and smiling.

"You'd make a fine siren," he teased before inhaling and she watched his body relax on the exhale as he declared, "The freshest scent you'll ever find – the ocean."

"Sort of the Earth's filter," Clara informed him before rubbing her nose at the increasing cold's effect on it. She imagined it was turning the color of blood and for a moment she feared it was running without her knowledge and she slipped her finger under it to test her skin.

"We'll be there soon," he offered quietly.

"Ah, yes, the ship." She smiled when he cocked his head. "How long have you been travelling?"

He shrugged, "Seems my whole life," then he turned, "You travel often?"

Clara frowned then, looking back up with less resolve than she'd had before and she admitted, "Haven't really travelled at all."

"Now that's a travesty. Girl like you should have seen the world by now."

With a smile, she asked, "Why's that?"

"Because a girl like you?" His words trailed and he turned away, shaking a thought out of his head before stopping and admitting, "Girl like you should have the world at her command, should reach out and grasp it and make it hers – it's a _travesty_ that you _haven't_."

She was staring now. At the eyes that searched hers and the lips that were curled into a small grin and she looked down, breaking eye contact because she was having difficulty breathing, smirking when she saw his hands clench and unclench nervously. Clara then shrugged and met his glance again, seeing the small hint of anxiety there as she asked, "Why have we stopped?"

Raising his right hand out, he smiled, "Because we've reached my ship."


	5. Chapter 5

Clara was almost afraid to turn. She considered her day for a moment. Waking up fully clothed in bed, having to rush through a shower to get to school, getting through her courses with her eyes half closed and a twinge of a headache poking just behind her eyes, having a pirate stroll up to her on campus, with whom she'd just walked through the city for over two hours, and maybe, just maybe, there was a pirate ship to her left. Hadn't her mother told her not to run off with strange men?

_Strange men, _it turned out_, had pirate ships_.

The man in front of her was chuckling now easily, and she shifted ever so slightly, eyes narrowing, as if she wanted to close them and surprise herself. And she half expected to look over and see a dinghy just floating in the water, but what she found when she turned was a full-fledged ship. Large sails wrapped tightly around their masts, asleep and readying themselves for a journey and she pointed, somewhat embarrassed, at the vessel just as she felt his forefinger tap her chin, closing her mouth.

"It's impressive," she managed with a cough as she turned and glanced up at him.

"You should see her sail," he replied before waving an arm, "Come on, I'll give you a tour."

He moved forward, but Clara remained glued to the spot, giving his back a small shake of her head and when he turned, she gestured, "That's a pirate ship; you're a proper pirate."

"Thought we'd established this, love," he laughed.

"But you're a pirate," she repeated.

He moved back to her and raised a hand, "And you're a princess, from a land I am unfamiliar with, who has offered kindness and I am inviting you aboard – it would be bad form to decline."

Glancing back down the street that had lead through a fish market and warehousing that she hadn't noticed on their walk in, Clara picked her phone out of her pocket and raised a finger as Killian stood, hand still in mid-air, confused. "Texting Nina."

"Ah, the communication box," he nodded. "Those would come in handy aboard the ship."

Clara pocketed the phone and then looked over his shoulder, "Do you have crew? Don't pirate ships have crews? Will it not bother them that a lady is on board? Should a lady board? Isn't that bad luck? To have a lady on board?"

The questions came rapid fire and Killian found himself laughing before shaking his head, "Superstitious nonsense, Clara. And no, at the moment, the crew is dispensed."

"How do you mean, dispensed?"

With a frown, Killian explained, "Did I mention I just came from Neverland? Not exactly the best place. A boy called Pan rules the island and he's not keen on strangers docking his shores."

Laughing, Clara nodded, "I'm fairly sure you've got your fairy tales a bit mixed." Then she straightened, "Are you saying your crew's been killed?"

"Dispensed," he replied sadly.

They've been killed, she understood. Swallowing hard, she slowly raised her hand and placed it in his, watching him look back up at her in surprise before his fingers curled around hers and he lead her towards the ramp that took her aboard. The water in the dock rocked the boat slightly and she reached out to take hold of the railing, but found his coat instead, hand wrapping itself around its edge as she stumbled into him with a small gasp.

"No sea legs, I take it," he teased.

"Not one for ocean travel."

He glanced skyward and declared, "Ah, yes, I've seen the metal birds in your sky – presumed as much."

Clara smiled and shook her head, "Usually I just use the tube."

Killian's eyes darted aside and then back and she smiled.

"It's what we call underground transport."

He pointed downward and raised his brow, asking quickly, "You have transport… underground?"

She nodded, "Like a car – like a barrel, on wheels, getting pulled through… a tube."

Smirking, Killian offered, "This land has become such a strange place."

Clara glanced around, "This land's always been a bit strange."

He tilted his head in agreement and then lead her up to the helm, leaning against it as she ran a hand over the wheel and held it, turning to offer a quick giggle before asking, "What's the life of a pirate really like?" Clara brought a hand to her mouth, then shook her head, "Sorry, you don't – you don't have to answer that."

But he laughed and nodded, "Pirate's life…"

She laughed aloud and then whispered, "Yo ho."

He eyed her curiously, but offered, "It's not easy."

"Is there rum?"

Cocking his head, he told her coyly, "There's always rum."

"Isn't that dangerous? Rum aboard a ship with explosives? I mean," she gestured, "You have canons."

"Only dangerous if you let a fool run your canons," he teased.

"Won't be running the canons then," she nodded.

Killian straightened and pointed, "I reckon you'd be an excellent gunner, always mindful of the rum."

"Now you're just teasing," she smiled.

With a laugh, he nodded, "Since you've probably never handled a canon, you'd probably put a hole in the hull, sink the ship and that," he pointed, "Is why you'll remain on the top deck."

"No rummaging below?" She growled, surprising even herself. Then she paused, straightening and shifting, "Are we moving?"

Killian smiled, but then he felt it too. A slight drift to their movements and he rushed towards the edge of the ship, glancing down at the rope that hung slack, cut away from the portion tied to the dock and he shouted for her to join him, but they were swiftly being pulled backwards towards the open ocean. Towards a crackling whirlpool of red smoke that Clara turned slowly towards upon seeing the terrified look on his face.

"What is that?" She screamed, back pressing painfully into the wheel behind her.

"That," Killian told her, rushing to her side, "Is a portal."

"To what?" She asked pointedly.

Grabbing hold of the wheel, he tried to turn it, finding it frozen as he admitted, "I don't know!"


	6. Chapter 6

Clara turned, swinging herself underneath his arms to grab hold of two more pegs on the wheel, trying to turn with him because she presumed he was trying to stop the motion. The phone in her purse rang shrilly, and she grunted with the effort that was burning her arms as they simply moved faster and faster. She glanced up at the worried look on Killian's face as he turned and then one arm closed around her and he pressed her body into the wheel in front of them as they tilted backwards and began a quick descent.

Closing her eyes, she braced for some sort of impact, but all she felt was a stomach turning fall, like the start of a roller coaster, and then they lurched upright and she listened to seagulls chirping overhead. "No," she heard Killian gasp.

Clara raised her head and looked out over the bright sky, at the ocean calmly around them, and the small seaside village they were now sailing towards. "What…" she started slowly, eyes locked on his as he stared at the sight in front of them. "What is that?"

Shaking his head, he half smiled, but she could see the concern when he looked back down at her and admitted, "That is where pirates live."

"Is that your home?" Clara asked, swallowing roughly against her parched throat. "Are we back at your home?" Then she turned, "Have we gone back in time?"

The man in front of her didn't budge, he simply leaned into her and whispered, "Where we're going is very dangerous and Clara, heed my words, don't take one step out of line. From here on out you are Killian Jones' lass – if you dare utter anything different, you may find yourself at a loss for a head." He looked away, then took a step back and watched her take a deep breath before telling her, "We'll have to port, at least for the night…"

"Can't we turn around?" Clara asked, hand on the wheel just behind her.

He shook his head, "They'd have spotted us already, if we turn, the gesture would be taken as a glove to the face and we'd be chased for an explanation."

"You have strange customs," Clara whispered.

Smiling weakly, Killian provided, "We're pirates – not big on trust, love."

"I take it," she responded quickly before looking back to the city as Killian took hold of the wheel and began to steer, raising an arm and giving a wave and a nod. "How did we get here?"

He continued to steer, face pained as he looked to her and admitted honestly, "Not entirely sure. Suppose time corrected itself."

"Time correct…" she started, then her eyes went wide and she scoffed, "I'm not in the correct time – what is this time?" Clara pointed, "What time are we?"

With a small smirk, he told her, "A long time ago," then he raised a hand, "You'll be fine, Clara, just… just stay by my side, I'll keep you safe and find a way to return you." With a sigh, he checked his pocket and thumbed the small vial that contained an odd bean. Down to the last he'd stolen. He glanced sideways at her, at the large dark eyes now studying the village they were approaching and he frowned, "Captain's quarters, see if you could find something more suitable to wear."

"You make a habit of bringing dresses aboard?" She teased, releasing a huff of laughter that surprised him.

With a nod, he supplied, "Aye, you never know what you could trade for an expensive dress."

Clara hesitated, but then moved in the direction he gestured and pushed into the room slowly, glancing around the small space before finding a closet and rummaging through the coats and vests. She paused, fingers running over what looked like an old army sailor's uniform and she glanced back wondering if he'd answer if she asked. Then she pushed it aside and looked to two dresses that lay pressed into the back of the closet. Neither was overly flashy, simply cut, tight – she could already tell – at the waist and bust, and, she sighed, both definitely made for taller women.

Pulling out a deep red dress with a fluff of cream colored pleated material at the chest and matching flowing long sleeves, she considered whether this was still, somehow, a ruse. But the man up top had seemed genuine in his concern, so she quickly undressed, folding her clothes in a neat pile on his bed before throwing the dress over her head and smoothing it over her body. The fit was tight, but not enough so to bother her and she extended her arms, smiling at the way the silky sleeves hung like small wings.

Reaching behind her, she frowned when she realized she'd have to be buttoned up and her eyes closed because she could imagine Killian was above her just waiting, smirk on his smug face. Clutching the long skirt in her palms, she made her way just outside where he was standing, hand raised as if to knock, and she could see the flutter of something like shock wash over his face as he took her in and then swallowed. "Almost at port, was going to rush you."

"Need help," she managed, turning to show him the buttons and her bare back. "Killian?"

He reached forward slowly, fingers working awkwardly over each connection, knuckles brushing her skin occasionally and he smiled when he saw the gooseflesh on the back of her neck as she raised her hair. When she dropped down, it tickled his hands, just before he pulled away – as if stung – and she swung around, tossing him a look of contempt because she knew he'd snuck those touches on purpose and she supposed punching him just before docking would be inappropriate.

He'd have to be her guide and guardian in this place.

Nodding, Clara asked quietly, "Anything I should know?"

Looking her over, he shook his head, "Just stay quiet, say you're my wife, follow my lead."

"I'll not be your wife, I'm not even graduated yet!" Clara spat.

He laughed, "Don't mention your schooling, not many here would find the advancement of women as endearing as I do." He turned before she could respond, leaving her slack jawed and annoyed as he waved to a man at the dock, "A little help, my line was cut."

Clara crossed her arms at her chest and settled herself at the side of the ship, watching them secure the vessel to port before he offered his hand and smiled. She released a long sigh and watched his brow fall slowly at her disdain and when he approached her, she told him plainly, "If you try anything, I won't hesitate to put a knee between your legs."

"Threatening to destroy my _personal_ cannon and we've yet to step foot on land?" He chuckled, "Playing _my wife_ won't be as hard as you think." Killian held out a hand again, waiting for her to take it and he lead her towards the board that bridged them to the dock, walking with a grin on his face as she pushed her lips together in annoyance.

A portly man approached them, arms outstretched and Killian released her to do the same, shouting happily, "_Barnibus_!" Just before the man's expression shifted and he sucker punched Killian in the jaw.


	7. Chapter 7

Clara shouted out in shock, rushing to his side as Killian pushed himself up on his elbows, rubbing a hand to his face while she glared at the man slowly taking the final few steps to stop in front of them. "That was for my daughter."

Giving Killian a confused look, Clara helped him up and waited for him to respond, but he frowned and shook his head, nodding slowly, as if he had grounds to punch him. "Should I even ask?" Clara hissed at him.

He lifted a hand to quiet her and then smiled towards Barnibus, "No need for further altercation, as I offer my apologies and promises that not another eye will, even waywardly, meet your daughter's presence." Then he told him quietly, "My wife serves as well enough punishment, I should think."

"Killian Jones!" Barnibus barked before turning to Clara, "A married man? I find this hard to believe," then he asked her, "How did he convince you to take _him_ as a husband?"

Clara gave the man her best fake smile and offered, "His charm, obviously – for he's rather lacking in wit."

"Oh," Barnibus laughed, "Oh, I like her Killian. Where'd you find a feisty lass?" His voice went quiet as he questioned, "Didn't have to pay for her, did you?"

"No, no, father was glad to be rid of her, actually," he told her pointedly as she raised an eyebrow.

With a sigh, Clara approached Barnibus and asked, "Good sir, would you care to have a drink? On my dear husband's behalf, of course – as further apologies for his miscreant behavior towards your daughter."

He took her hand, wrapping it around his arm and nodded as he grinned happily at her. Barnibus began to lead them into the village, tossing a nod to Killian and telling her quietly, "You seem quite above his station, if you don't mind me saying."

Clara managed a blush and shook her head, "Better to keep him in line, lest he thinks he rules the roost."

He laughed and gave her hand a pat, "I do like you."

"Feeling is quite mutual," she replied with an honest smile because he reminded her of her grandfather, all rough on the outside, but – she could tell – just a sweet man on the inside.

Killian caught her eye and offered a small grin of amusement as they worked their way past stands selling vegetables and dead animals Clara tried not to make faces at to a small pub. It emitted a warm glow in the shadowy pebble walkway between the buildings and Clara found herself glancing back excitedly at the man who'd accidentally brought her along. If she was going to be stuck in another time, she might as well enjoy it and as they entered, she laughed at the men who slammed mugs on the wooden tables and let out bellows at each other's stories.

They reached an empty table and she felt Killian at her back suddenly, pushing her onto a long bench and edging in quickly to sequester her against a corner. She eyed him, but he was giving her a small nod, his brow knotted in concern and she understood – he was keeping her from harm and she nodded back appreciatively as Killian turned his attention to Barnibus, dropping onto the bench across the table from them with a raised arm towards a waitress.

"Does the lady drink…" Barnibus began to ask.

"I could use a beer," Clara nodded. "Mead?" She questioned. "Rum?" She finally asked.

Barnibus glanced at her with a gaping smile and then narrowed his eyes playfully and bent over the table towards her, "Rum? He has given you a pirate's life, hasn't he."

"Yo ho," she replied confidently.

Killian raised a hand, "You should drink water."

Barnibus looked offended, "If your wife wants to drink, maybe you should accommodate her."

"I accommodate her quite well," he smiled, adding forcefully, "Thank you."

"And with a bit of spirits, she might be more willing to _accommodate_ _you_ later," Barnibus argued with a small wink towards Clara, who looked away and then straightened, eyes widening at the implication as Killian laughed. She stomped his foot roughly and he immediately fell against her, groaning into her neck as she gripped his vest to keep him at a distance.

After a moment of pressing his forehead into the side of her head, he warned, "Play along, anyone gets suspicious of you, they'll assume you're up to no good and you might end up with more than a pretty scent around your neck."

Clara swallowed roughly as he muttered an apology and before she could question him, he brought his lips to her neck and sucked hard enough to leave a blotch of red before she shoved him away, trying to smile as she lifted her hand to the spot and wiped at his spit. She knew he was doing it for show, marking her in front of the crowd and – in a small way, protecting her with the demonstration – but she didn't approve.

Of course, she couldn't tell him then. The waitress was bringing a round of mugs filled to their brim with golden liquid and froth and Clara immediately took one and gulped for a few moments, wincing against the acidity before settling it down and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, opening her eyes to find both men staring in shock.

"Sorry, worked up a bit of a thirst."

Barnibus looked to Killian, "What did you have the girl doing, Killi?"

He smiled, tilting his head towards her, "Honeymoon period – the usual."

Picking up her mug, Clara finished off the drink knowing if she didn't fog her mind a little, she might give him a piece of it. And after an hour, she found herself singing along awkwardly to some song Barnibus and Killian were bellowing out into the pub, laughing and clinging to the man at her side. She felt lightheaded and at the end of the song, she gave her head a shake before Killian touched her cheek lightly, gaining her attention and she smiled at the genuine concern he was looking at her with.

"Think it's time for us to find a room," Killian offered, nodding with her and he helped her stand, slinging an arm under hers before lifting her up to the cheers of the room and she laid her head against his shoulder as he shouted out, "To the wife!"

The room erupted and Clara smiled lazily as he carried her out.


	8. Chapter 8

She'd fallen asleep by the time he got her up to the second floor and slipped a key awkwardly in the door, passing a smile at an older man who eyed the woman he held. Killian pushed inside and turned to lock the door behind them, shifting Clara in his arms and sighing as he took her to the bed to lay her gently on it, brushing hair away from her face and looking her over. He would easily admit she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on and he swallowed roughly as he stood to pull the leather coat off and toss it over the back of a chair, turning again when she let out the small moan of a bad dream.

He caught the word 'mum' and stepped back to her side, fingers lightly brushing over her cheek as he knelt and listened a moment. Her brow came together in silent pain and he was surprised at how the unexpected expression affected him, feeling the need to protect her from whatever nightmares were plaguing her and he stood again, moving away because he was a pirate. He shouldn't allow himself actual emotional connections. Taking a woman was a convenience, a pleasure, a dalliance. Or so he'd told himself – he understood the dangers of what he did and he'd die before putting a woman in the thick of it.

"And isn't that what you've done," he muttered.

"No," Clara gasped lightly, eyes coming open as she shifted up in bed with a frightened look in his direction before it melted away and she looked around in a daze. "Where are we?"

He gestured towards her, "Room and board, just for the night – you should get some rest, in the morning we're off to find a suitable solution to our predicament."

"A divorce," she laughed, then added, "So soon?"

Killian pushed his lips together and cocked his head forward, "Your being stuck hundreds of years before your time, pet."

With a nod, Clara asserted, "I know what the predicament is; trying to lighten the mood." She frowned, "What's got you puckered?"

He gestured to the bed and she shifted, waiting for him to sit before he smiled up at her, "Quite honestly… you."

Clara straightened, looking over the black puffed sleeves that covered his arms and the red vest that hugged his torso and she licked her lips, allowing, "I'm sorry for the… for back there. Was just having a little fun…"

"No," he laughed, raising a hand and shaking it at her, "No, that was pleasant – you've done nothing wrong; that's the predicament… you shouldn't be here."

"What's a little time travel," she teased, "Didn't you tell me it was a travesty I hadn't travelled?"

With a small laugh as he looked to the floor, he admitted, "Travelling the world in the safety of your own time. This place? Not so much."

"I'm travelling with a pirate," Clara assured, inching closer to hook her arm through his and nudge him lightly until he tilted his head to meet her eye, "What did I drink?"

"A bit of everything, actually," he told her honestly, then stood with a smile. "Suppose I should bring you water to flush it out of your system so you're worth something in the morning. We have quite the challenge ahead of us."

She managed a small laugh, feeling slightly sick to her stomach as she dropped back onto the bed with a hand to her head while he moved to the door, opened it. It snapped shut just as quickly and when Clara glanced up, Killian was running towards the bed, jumping onto her hard enough to knock the railing against the wall and Clara gave a shout of surprise.

"What are you doing?" She spat.

"Barnibus is just outside," he told her, hand coming up to cover her mouth, "He keeps this Inn; he has the keys and he's going to be drunk enough to…"

"Check on us?" Clara mumbled through his fingers.

"If we don't look like we're…" His eyes dropped at the space between them.

"No," she told him sharply.

Tilting his head, he hissed, "Newly _married_ – it would raise _suspicion_."

"_The hell with_ _suspicion_!" She said when he lifted his hand. "_I am not that drunk_."

Leaning closer, Killian growled, "You don't understand, he runs this town and I'm already on a plank, so to speak, about his daughter, so if he comes in here and we're casually chatting and not…"

"He'll kill you," she surmised with a small nod, watching the genuine terror in the small nod she received in return.

Swallowing, he corrected, "He'll kill both of us – think you're an accomplice to some plan of mine and we'll be on the gallows by sunrise, so if you don't mind," he reached down to pull at her dress, bringing it up roughly before nudging her legs apart with his knees and landing on her with a shared grunt that knocked the bed into the wall again, "Play along."

Clara began to shake her head, but there was a rattle at the door and Killian unbuckled his belt, tugging his shirt loose and landing hard against her again. His hand shifted quickly to her right leg, nudging it onto his back and she dug the heel of her shoe into him as he buried his face in her neck, breathing hotly against her. A small noise of surprised fear escaped her just as the door opened and for show, Killian thrust himself onto her as she shrieked, eyes pinching shut.

"Oh _dear_," Barnibus called before chuckling, "Sorry to interrupt… _do carry on_."

Killian turned to smile deviously at the man before nodding, "A little privacy would be much appreciated, the lady doth deserve her modesty, does she not?"

Releasing a small hoot, the other man closed the door and Killian rolled onto the bed beside her, hands pressed into his face and Clara moved quickly, stumbling onto the hardwood floor, to push a chair underneath the door handle before she turned and released a breath of frustration as the man pushed off the bed and met her halfway, grabbing the arm that swung to hit him with a grunt and turning her to toss her back onto the mattress. He gave her a half-grin when she shouted his name and he took hold of the bedposts and drove it into the wall repeatedly, nodding his head towards the hallway.

Clenching her teeth, she watched him tilt his head and raise his eyebrows at her, expecting her to make some sort of noise, but Clara shook her head and when he lifted the bed and slammed it down, she shouted his name as he smiled in appreciation. And then she moved on her knees towards him seductively, watching his eyes widen as she approached and promptly punched him in the stomach so that he moaned out in pain.

Outside, Barnibus sniggered as he pushed off the door and staggered down the hall.


	9. Chapter 9

Her head was pounding in the morning when he woke her with a gentle nudge, calling her name until she peered up at him with squinted eyes, hand coming up to rub at her temples. And then she smelled the bacon, forehead knotting slightly as she chanced to look down to find him holding a tray on which sat a plate piled high with an assortment of treats.

"What's this?" Clara croaked, taking the mug of water he handed her to gulp some down before glancing back up at him to wait.

"Apologies," he offered quietly, "For last night."

She half smiled, pushing herself up to sit so he could lay the tray in her lap. "You brought me breakfast, in bed," Clara laughed, watching him shrug. "Are you _sure_ you're a pirate?"

"A pirate can't be a gentleman?" He retorted as she plucked a grape off a bunch and ate it with another long sip of water. "A princess deserves as much."

Clara snorted, "I'm no princess."

Glancing at her sideways, he argued, "I believe your father would disagree."

With a laugh, she nodded, "Daddy's girl; pegged that one." Clara ate her breakfast as he looked out over the village through the window and eventually, she asked, through a mouthful of eggs, "Where are we going, anyways?"

"Find the blue fairy," he explained plainly.

"I'm sorry?" She coughed.

He turned and smiled, "Blue fairy, love, most powerful fairy in the enchanted forest."

"I'm _sorry_?" Clara repeated, then shook her head, "Your solution to our problems is to find a fairy?" Then she cocked her head, "A fairy in a forest?"

"You've got a better idea?" He tilted his head towards her, "I'd really love to hear it." Then he smiled, "Or have you decided you'd like to stay because I'm certain I could make…"

"No," she spat, watching him chuckle, "It's just, fairies – not exactly… they're not real."

"Oh, milady," he laughed, "They're very real and not to be trifled with." Pointing, he told her, "Don't let one hear you saying they're not real, they could add a second head or a third arm, or worse…"

Straightening, Clara shifted the tray off her lap and she clapped her hands of food remnants, moving to stand and remaining still before she felt him at her side. "I'm fine," she told him immediately.

"Yes, I get that you're a _terrible_ liar," he replied, giving her a push back onto the bed and landing his hands on her shoulders, "Take a few moments, let the food settle in – _finish the water_," he ordered.

Nodding slowly, Clara opened her eyes and found him standing before her, one arm crossed over his chest, the other propped up against it, knuckles at his lips as he stared at her. He was considering her and she knew what he was thinking: would she even be able to make it through a forest. Nose flaring, she pushed off the bed again and stared back as his eyebrows rose, "We don't have time for the babying – we have to get out of this place and into a forest to find a fairy to get me home."

Clara pushed her feet back into her shoes, thinking about how he'd have been the one to have taken them off her and placed them carefully next to the bed. She laced them quickly, all the while feeling his eyes on her, and then she crossed the room to pull open the odor, turning quickly with a humph to see Barnibus with his hand raised, as if to knock.

"Hello," the man called, "Look distressed, is Killian being a problem – _this early in the morning_?"

With a laugh, Clara shook her head, instantly shaking the tension off her shoulders with a speed that shocked Killian as he watched, mouth slightly agape, "No, sir, we've just gotten off to a late start on account of my over indulgence in spirits last night."

"And a bit of overindulgence in the bedroom," Killian muttered with a coy smile, waiting to see the look of frustration she flashed him before he moved to her side, "We're off to the forest, maybe a night or two – would you be so kind as to keep an eye on my ship?"

Barnibus looked flustered as he considered it and then glanced from Clara to Killian and back to Clara, "Forest, with a new bride? Are you certain it's such a good idea, Killian – I could watch the misses for you, sure we could keep each other company quite well."

Killian lifted a hand to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze as he smiled widely and shook his head, "No need, sir – milady was raised a bit wild, prefers the adventure to toiling away in a home. One of the reasons I agreed to marry her."

"Ah," Barnibus laughed, "Then be forewarned, the ogres have been tramping the forests – another war with the townsfolk across the river."

Clara turned slowly, meeting Killian's gaze as he nodded to Barnibus and she swallowed roughly, thinking about everything she'd ever read in storybooks about ogres and when the larger man departed with a promise to look after the Jolly Roger, she asked, "Ogres?"

"Like oversized trolls," Killian muttered quietly as they began to make their way back down into the main pub and out onto the muddy street. Clara was nodding to herself, finger coming up to her lips so she could chew nervously at the edge of her nail.

Once they were on a grassier street that dissolved into a sea of trees, she chanced to ask, "So that wasn't, like a joke… there are actual ogres, actually in another war. A war of ogres and…"

"Men," Killian explained, "Happened before, long time ago I think – time gets foggy when you've been to Neverland. Doesn't quite seem to flow," he smiled down at her, then frowned when he saw the concerned expression plaguing her. "We just have to steer clear of Ogres, should be an easy enough task – you're the size of a pixie." Then he teased, "They're afraid of pixies."

Reaching out, she socked him hard in the chest and picked up the edges of her dress, quickening her pace towards the forest. Killian might have laughed, but he heard the distinct howl of something far more sinister than ogres and before he could react, Clara screamed.


	10. Chapter 10

Her dark eyes were now staring directly into the dilated pupils of a wolf and Clara understood, by the sheer size of it, that it wasn't merely some dog out for a walk. It seemed to be smiling at her as she took a step back and she gasped when it hopped to her left and then her right in two giant leaps, toying with her. Turning her head slightly, she wanted to shout for Killian; Clara wanted to be sure the man was just behind her with his sword to protect her, but she was too afraid to look away.

As if she could somehow avoid being killed if she could just maintain eye contact with the beast.

"_Killian_," she managed, voice high-pitched and stuck in her throat.

The metal tip of his sword cut through the air at her side just before the leather clad pirate burst into the space in front of her with a half growl at the wolf. Clara could see the expression on that furry face shift as it watched this new threat – this _actual_ threat – keeping track of its movements, ready to strike. The man before her held a hand out and she moved closer to him, clutching at him out of fear and she heard him chuckle.

"Oh, you would find amusement in this," she huffed.

With a snort, he told her, "Staring down a werewolf, love; one would be foolish to revel only in the fear."

"I'm _quite_ the fool then," she spat in return.

He nodded when the wolf barked and commanded, "Stay behind me."

"Not a problem," she breathed.

It leapt forward and she gave a quick shout just before the wolf howled in pain and Clara closed her eyes, not releasing her grip on Killian's hand as she felt his weight shift. And then he turned and she yelped because he pulled her hand off the back of his arm and laughed. "Clara," he whispered, "It's alright."

She shook her head. "That was a werewolf," she managed to reply, eyes still pinched shut.

His hand was at her cheek, thumb giving her flesh a soft swipe and she heard him chuckle lightly, the metal of his sword sliding smoothly against the leather sheath on his waist and it was only when he repeated her name again that she chanced to look. She could see the amusement masking his concern and Clara glanced sideways to the naked man lying in the foliage, chest gouged and bloody. Nodding, she looked back to Killian and he dropped his hand away, slipping it over her arm and wrapping it around hers before moving towards the forest, waiting as she took hesitant steps.

"Forest not safe, I take it," she finally muttered.

Killian looked over the trees around them and landed his gaze on her, "Not much is safe here."

Feeling flustered, and a bit disappointed, Clara nervously shifted her fingers within his hand, saying quietly with a look at the piercing eyes that continued to search the forest around them as they moved, "Pirates lynching one another over suspicion I understand, but Neverland is lorded over by a Pan who kills; a forest full of werewolves and dangerous things – is there any safe place here?"

"Did I forget to mention this isn't your world?" He smiled weakly at her.

"Where are we?" Clara asked blankly, tearing her hand away. "I thought we were just earlier in time. Time travelling, ok, there are scientific theories behind it, but… portals to other worlds? Tears in the fabric of the universe? Other universes?"

Killian raised his hands and shook his head, then he straightened, "You live in a world where metal flies, where you use tubes in tunnels as transport, have a device that allows you to speak to your mate from across unknown distances, but a portal to another world – that's where you draw a line?" With a smile and a tilt of his head in her direction, he offered, "While I appreciated the rather revealing fashions of your time, I would say this is the more acceptable world."

"Acceptable because you live in it," Clara spat, "We don't have werewolves jumping out of the forest."

"You have wolves that wear the clothes of man and attack women at their most vulnerable," he pointed, "I caught a few stories on the enchanted boxes that hang everywhere in your land, pet. Don't pretend your world is so innocent."

Her jaw dropped slightly and then she shook her head and told him quietly, "I never claimed it was innocent, it just made sense."

"Sense is relevant," he replied calmly before glancing around, "Now we have to get moving."

"To find a fairy," she mocked.

He turned, "You still question…"

She interrupted loudly, "Yes, I question fairies – will they fall down dead if I say I don't believe? That's how it works in books in _my_ land, is that how it works here?"

Killian took a long breath and watched the way her breath heaved and she stared with those impossibly wide eyes of hers and then he laughed. It was slow, starting with a chuckle, but eventually it echoed out into the forest and, after a moment, she joined him, enjoying the ridiculousness of their situation. Clara gestured back behind her and then bent slightly, hand grasping at her knee before she called,

"Werewolf," then she added loudly, "I could have been eaten by a werewolf!"

Nodding, he touched his sword, "I was chivalrous! A _chivalrous_ pirate!"

Clara's laughter tapered off and she took a few long breaths, smiling up at the man who seemed to toggle between being impressed with his actions and being conflicted by them. How long had he been a pirate, she wondered suddenly. Was it a birthright in this place? Clara thought pirates of this nature lived in story books and imaginations, but now he stood in front of her, staring out at the forest, passing an occasional anxious glance in her direction and she stood straight, appreciating him.

"Your staring is most concerning," he finally allowed, ducking his head bashfully.

"You saved my life," Clara told him plainly.

With a nod, his head came up, cocky look on his face – or rather, Clara grinned, his regular look returned to its rightful place. "You owe me, milady."

Raising an eyebrow, she shot, "Oi, I _married_ you, after you _kidnapped_ me, and didn't rip your head off for that stunt you pulled last night – I believe you're still indebted to me, Captain."

He hooted and then nodded, "Aye, very true, Clara."

She grinned, then giggled, then asked quickly, "This land – rodents of unusual size?"

Glancing sideways, Killian replied quickly, "Rodents can be fairly large, I suppose."

Stepping towards him, Clara looped her arm around his and shook her head, "Joke, it was a joke about a… just lead the way to the fairies, Jones."

With a smile, he turned and began to walk with a simple, "As you wish, milady."


	11. Chapter 11

Killian glanced down at the woman walking beside him with drooping eyelids and faltered footsteps and he frowned knowing they should have stopped long ago, as soon as the sun started setting. She'd urged him on, some new twinkle in her eye over the fact that night might actually be better – didn't fairy tale things prefer the cover of darkness. Lifting her up into his arms, he laughed when she immediately dropped her head to his shoulder and fell asleep and he sighed her name in amusement.

"Darkness is not a place for one such as yourself," he told her silently.

He shook away the thought, reminding himself that as much as he continued to think of her as some dainty princess from a faraway land – royalty he had somehow managed to be charged with and managed to fancy just a bit too much – she was just a girl he'd gotten into trouble. With a smile and a glance at the calm face, Killian imagined she wasn't the type to stray too far from home often. Her skin was too pale; features too soft.

Taking refuge in a cave, he settled her down, smiling when she moaned lightly, and he started a fire, deciding to leave her for a few moments to search for something to eat and returning with a rabbit held tight in a bloodied hand. Grimacing, he skinned, gutted, and worked a stick through the carcass before slowly cooking it as she slept by his side. He frowned because he could hear her muttering something incoherent, face crumpling against another nightmare and when she gasped and sat up, she looked confused, touching her head and then glancing up at him with furrowed brow.

"You caught a rabbit?"

He nodded.

Clara licked at her lips and adjusted herself to sit next to him, inching closer to him as she shivered against the cool night air, arms wrapping around her shoulders as she watched the meat he turned over just above the fire. She was lost in thought and he considered her. Her nightmares were about her mum, he'd gathered that much, and as she lifted her hands to warm next to the flames, he shifted uncomfortably.

"What happened to her?" He asked quickly, then added, "Your mum."

She eyed him a moment and he could see the blank stare that replaced the immediate shock of the question and he knew he shouldn't have asked. But she replied in a whisper, "She died a couple years ago."

"I'm sorry," he sighed.

Clara flashed him a quick smile and shook her head, "Sort of a crazy day, mannequins coming to life – they sort of attacked the city for a while and she… she pushed me out of the way of a shot."

Her lips came together tightly as her eyes glistened in the firelight and Killian understood: she'd watched her own mother die, probably held her as she took her last breath. Not unlike he'd done with his brother. His head dropped slightly and she leaned into him, small sniffle audible through the crackling of the fire and he raised his arm automatically to drop onto her shoulder, hugging her tightly.

"How long was I asleep?" She asked quietly.

"Not long," he told her honestly, "We should stop for the night. I heard a brook not far; we can search it out in the morning." Killian looked out over the forest and then turned to look at her, tucked at his side, as she plucked at her own fingers in her lap and curled her legs towards him. "Don't get too comfortable, pet," he teased, "I could get used to this."

She managed a smile, eyes finding his before she offered, "Maybe I wouldn't mind."

Killian looked away because he was convinced she could see the blush staining his cheeks and he absently rubbed at one with his right shoulder, as if he could wipe it away. And he pursed his lips when he glanced back at her, seeing her chuckling softly to herself. He hated how easily she affected him and he unfurled away from her to check the rabbit, passing her pieces until it was bones hanging limply and her eyelids were dropping again with a full stomach.

"Clara?"

Raising her head to look at him with sleepy eyes and a faint smile, she nodded.

He took a long breath as he watched her body quiver slightly when a breeze found her and he leaned back against the curved cave wall and beckoned her to him. Clara picked herself up, gathering the dress in her fists, and she took the few steps towards him and then dropped down in front of him, spreading herself at his side and laying a palm against his chest before her head joined it. She released a long sigh of tired contentment.

Leaning his head back against the rough surface, Killian snaked his arm out from his side and shifted it around her delicately, slipping down with her to lie against the ground. Clara snuggled in closer and he huffed a laugh as she made a noise of gratification and he lifted his free hand to stroke his knuckle along her cheek, flicking her nose lightly with the tip of his finger before he dropped his hand to his stomach and slowly let himself drift to sleep.

When he woke, he smiled instantly, feeling her back pressed flush against his chest, her hands curled up around the arm draped across her chest. Her head was cradled in the crook of his left arm and she breathed calmly, in tandem with him and it struck him how natural it all felt. Inhaling her scent, he closed his eyes and imagined that maybe she'd been taken into the portal with him for a reason – maybe she wasn't meant to be returned. Maybe, he thought to himself for the smallest increment of time, maybe she was supposed to be out of time with a strange man from a strange land.

He chuckled to himself softly and nuzzled into her hair, grinning when she released a small sleepy laugh and muttered his name. He chanced to kiss the side of her neck, reveling in the feel of her warm skin against his lips and she shifted, rolling against him onto her back to look up at him in confusion before calling his name again, this time a question.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" He asked, voice barely audible.

Clara bit her bottom lip and stared up at him curiously and Killian didn't hesitate to drop his lips to hers, sighing when she offered no resistance to his exploration, simply brought a hand up to grip at his vest. His hand slid to her waist, turning her up against him as she gasped into him, fingers sliding down to the first button to begin twisting it free. And then the floor vibrated underneath them with the stomp of an oversized foot and they broke away, staring at one another before shifting to look towards the opening where the five large toes scratched against the space just outside of the cave's entrance.

And then a set of fat fingers reached inside, grabbing hold of them both.


	12. Chapter 12

Killian winced in pain as the fingers squeezed onto him, but he lifted his leg just enough to give Clara a rough kick to the stomach, jettisoning her from the grasp she'd only half been in. He could see her, bent in pain, just inside the cave, as he was pulled out into the open air and held up for the snarling ogre to examine. There was a crooked smile on the scarred face and Killian tried to work his hands free, knowing if he could just get his sword, he might stand a chance.

It howled into his face and he grimaced, offering a light, "Hello to you too, mate."

"HEY!" Clara barked and he glanced down in time to see her swing a large tree branch deftly at the ogre's ankle and the beast recoiled, stomping backwards and then reaching down to try and catch her.

"What are you doing?" Killian managed to growl.

"What's it look like," she huffed back. He rolled his head around to try and see where she'd gone, but the ogre was turning in circles, leg swinging out at the pesky brunette who moved faster than it could. Running aside, Clara shouted up, "Can you get your sword?"

With a laugh, Killian replied in frustration, "Would I have been able to, our new friend would be a finger short and you'd be paying me a compliment as I stood in victory over its lifeless body."

"I'd be yelling at you," she grunted, "For kicking me in the stomach."

"Hey," he hollered back, "I might have saved your life!"

Clara ducked under the foot that swung out to hit her, "Lot of good that did."

Rolling his eyes, he informed her, "You could have hidden in the cave."

She offered a huff of amusement before declaring, "Let you get ripped to pieces by an ogre? Not a chance."

With a smile, he asked, "Wouldn't have anything to do with that kiss."

"Maybe," she replied sharply, as she moved in a circle around the giant creature that spun and then stumbled slightly. "Maybe not – I wouldn't just leave someone to die."

The words stung more than they should have and Killian worked again to try and free an arm from the tight grip he was in, a grip that had loosened in the ogre's effort to catch Clara. "Not everyone is worth saving," he told her loudly out of frustration.

Clara stopped abruptly and yelled at him honestly with a shake of her head and a frown, "You're worth saving."

And in that momentary pause, the creature caught her with the broad side of his foot and sent her sailing through the air into the bushes just beside the cave. Pulling his sword free, Killian shouted her name and then swung the sword roughly at the wrist holding him, slashing through the skin and sending blood spilling out onto the ground as it released him, fingers having gone lax from its tendons being cut.

It bellowed in pain, other hand coming up to clasp around the wound as Killian rushed to the bush, pulling Clara up by her arms and hoisting her over his shoulder to run into the forest, away from the ogre now alerting others to their presence. They would think they were villagers – _their enemy_ – and his heart thudded loudly in his chest at the idea of what half a dozen ogres could do to two humans.

Tear them to bits, he knew.

"_Clara_," he cried as they neared a river, turning to look at her closed eyes and then swinging his head back in the other direction to listen to the stomping of feet coming at them. He clenched his jaw, and rushed towards the water, wading in back first as he pulled her over and let her body float against him into the frigid waters as he stepped deeper and deeper with her clasped against his chest. His feet barely touched the floor as they reached the middle and he took a breath, releasing his hold and letting them begin to drift away.

If they were lucky, the ogres wouldn't realize what they'd done and simply cross the river and continue their rampage on and they could simply float their way to safety, despite it taking them off course. Not that he knew what his course was, Killian thought to himself with a smile as Clara began to stir, screaming at the sudden shock of being in the water.

"Calm down," he murmured in her ear, "It'll do you good to have a soak – you're going to be smarting from that kick."

Her teeth were clattering when she replied in a hushed voice, "Which one?"

Frowning, he strengthened his grip on her as they continued drifting, both eyeing the blue sky in the gap between the trees, Killian occasionally turning to make sure there were no dangers just upstream. Because in the forest, one never know where dangers waited. He smiled at the thought, because people talked of the ocean as a treacherous thing, but he knew that treachery existed everywhere and every time. It existed in his heart, placed there as a reminder to be cautious of all things.

"How long do you suppose, until we reach the ocean?" Clara asked lightly.

He glanced down at her as best he could, chin dunking beneath the cold water to watch her as she continued looking up at the trees over them, completely relaxed against his body. "I don't understand you," Killian admitted.

She smiled, small and shy, and her dark eyes turned for a second to catch him staring, and she shrugged, "I'm not really that complex."

Feeling the sigh she released, he knew that she believed her words in the worst way. "Why risk your life…" he started, letting the words hang warmly between his lips and her right ear as her fingers tightened their grip on his arm.

"Why risk yours?" Clara replied meekly. "We make the world as simple or as complicated as we want it to be, Killian. I've had _enough_ complication and the simplest explanation is… we risk ourselves because we're good people. People who don't run when others are in danger." She giggled and nudged her head back into his chest, "And maybe I like you… just enough to keep you around."

He laughed then, feeling his heel hitting clumps of grass and knowing they were nearing a shallow spot on the river where they could make landfall. "You're quite a bit more complicated than you could ever imagine," he breathed.

Clara smiled, turning to supply, "You don't have to say you like me around as well."

Chuckling, he pressed his chin into her temple as his heart thudded faster because he didn't mind her around. He was beginning to wonder just how badly things could turn out if they didn't find the blue fairy. Or any fairy. How bad could life truly be if she continued pretending to be his wife? If maybe one day she decided she wasn't pretending anymore. Killian closed his eyes and sighed.

"I do enjoy your company," he admitted quietly, wincing because he expected, at the very least, a joke, but his words were met with silence and, he noticed, they'd stopped moving.

"Caught me self a pirate on land – how's that for luck."

Killian opened his eyes quickly and found himself staring up at a group of men laughing down at them, one holding a sort of harpoon caught in the fabric of Clara's dress, just at her breasts, keeping them both in place. Two of the men splashed into the water at their side and wrestled them up onto the embankment. Killian shouted when they pulled Clara away from him and he stepped forward, ready to fight, but he was struck in the side of the head, sending him to the ground.

"Captain Killian Jones," one muttered in his ear just before he lost consciousness, "You're going to take us on a little trip."


	13. Chapter 13

He came to and jerked against the ropes binding his wrists behind his back, and ankles, and he clamped his teeth against the rag tied around his head, shifting and glancing around to try and get a feel for where he was. His heart was caught in his throat as he imagined they'd simply killed Clara, leaving her to float lifelessly down the river, but he found her similarly bound, sitting up just next to him in a covered wagon. Her hands were clasped atop her knees and she was looking forward, towards the front of the wagon and he chanced a glance in that direction, seeing the three men sitting on a bench, directing the horses.

Clara gasped through her rag and when he turned, she was smiling down at her as best she could and then nodding up towards the men, as if asking what they should do. Killian hoisted himself up with a grunt, slamming his back into the side of the wagon at her side and he tugged on his wrists behind him before falling over again with an eye roll. He pulled his legs through his arms and then sat up with his hands in his lap, taking a breath and reaching for his legs.

"Touch those ropes, I'll put a round of pellets in your woman's pretty little face," came the gruff response from just beside him and when he looked up, there was a shotgun aimed at Clara. Killian inhaled a long deep breath and turned to look at Clara, who simply nodded.

He hated to see the look of defeat in her eyes; he was also furious that he could see they'd roughed her up and the right edge of her rag was dotted in her blood. Adjusting himself beside her, he dropped his palms into his lap and mumbled incoherently.

"Oh for Pete's sake – you know he ain't gonna scream," a man up front offered and the man at the back reached forward, tugging the gag from his mouth.

Killian tilted his head to Clara and started, "It's rather impolite to…"

But the man in front of him interrupted, "I don't care that she's a woman; she's staying _gagged_, and _tied_."

Brow furrowing, Killian looked over the man who gently touched a bruised eye and grimaced when he shifted the gun, as though pained by a blow to the stomach and he turned to Clara, who shrugged. He offered a smile of appreciation for her efforts, even though he knew it'd gotten her a good punch to the face, and then looked back to the man holding them captive.

"Since you're obviously acquainted with me, mind introducing yourselves?"

"Rufus, Reggie, and Ron," the man explained, pointing between him and the two men up front.

Grimacing, Killian replied, "I hope your poor mum didn't have to birth you all at once."

Clara snorted.

Rufus didn't look as amused, he tilted the gun in Killian's direction and explained, "We've got a map and you've got a boat. Only makes sense."

"Plenty of boats on the harbor," Killian shrugged, "Many _very willing_ to take on ruffians without so much as a question if the pay, or the cut of the profit offered, is sufficient – why me?"

"Reputation," came the muttered response from the front, and Rufus elaborated, "You're ruthless when it comes to matters of the King, and this is most definitely a matter of the King."

Jaw clenched, Killian threw a glance at Clara, who was looking up at him curiously, and then he nodded back to the three men, asking quietly, "What is it you hope to acquire?"

"King's Ransom."

Killian laughed, "Now _that's_ a fairy tale."

Clara mumbled the question, eyes locked on him as he refused to look in her direction now because he knew he should be kicking the gun out of the man's hand. He should be wrestling for control of the wagon. He should be concentrated on getting her to safety, but he was thinking about whether the notion of the King's Ransom were true. It was always possible.

Gaze remaining on the man in front of him, Killian uttered, "Island on which sits taxes collected that aren't really needed. Monies that should be used for the people, but are instead hoarded away for the King." He took a small breath and told him bluntly, "I've sailed the waters for more time than you've been around, mate – there is no King's Random. No island, no fort, no _bloody_ loot. It's a story for fools such as yourselves."

The gun shifted again to Clara as he growled, "Willing to bet her life on that?"

"Leave the woman out of it; she's got naught to do with these dealings," he glanced at her a moment before nodding, "Actually, she'll weigh us down, we should cut her loose. Back to the forest where I found her."

The man in front of him laughed. He squealed, and then he shifted forward, gripping the gun tightly in his hands and told Killian plainly, "The woman you found in the forest, eh?" Killian stared. "Woman whose name you been calling in your sleep for half an hour? Mutterin' about keeping her safe and sailin' 'er away into the sunset?"

Clara blushed as she shifted against him uncomfortably.

"The woman ain't going anywhere – she's the bargaining chip." Rufus spat to his side and nodded, "She's your prize to walk away with when we get ours."

Lips curling, Killian barked lowly, "There is no King's Ransom. You'd be putting her life in danger over a fool's errand."

Rufus leaned back, nodding slowly, and then he looked Clara over, small grin pushing at the corner of his mouth as he glanced back to Killian. "You better hope there is, 'cause if we don't find it? We're tossin' you overboard. And then we get to keep your ship, and _your_ prize."

Killian glanced at Clara, at the way her eye widened slightly and then tried to retain some semblance of composure as Rufus chuckled at her. "Back to the ship then, lass," Killian uttered in her direction, watching her shake her head before he smiled and looked to the man before them, "Suppose we're heading back into town. Jolly Roger's docked with my good mate, Barnibus."

"Well aware's, Captain Jones," Rufus spat with a nod, "And there'll be no funny business."

"A pity, amusements are my spirits when I'm lacking in liquor," Killian replied with a smile and he could feel the eyes at his side glaring heatedly at him. "Are we to acquire spirits. To be fair, finding a fantasy land does require a bit of a slant on ones perception."

Rufus gripped his gun and then nodded slowly, leaning back to tell him, "Maybe it's best if you slept the rest of the trip." He lifted a bag tied to his belt, undoing it carefully in his lap and Killian stared a moment just before Rufus pulled up a pinch and blew it at them.

"Oh, Poppie seeds," Killian muttered just before falling against Clara.


	14. Chapter 14

Clara woke with a start, immediately trying to jerk away only to find herself unable to because she'd been tied tightly to the mast at the center of the Jolly Roger. She frowned when she heard a whistle and a laugh from somewhere nearby, glancing up to see one of the two men who'd been driving the wagon standing just a few feet from her, swinging a sword around haphazardly before coming to bring it to her chin, lifting it slightly. He smiled down at her and then glanced at the deck at her side where Killian was still out.

"Pirate's not as good at holding his sleeping potion as the lady."

"Yeah," she managed, not quite awake enough to form a witty retort. "Which one are you?" She groaned as he brought the sword back into the air and swung it roughly and then grinning back at her.

Tilting the hat atop his head, he offered, "Ron."

"Oh, good," Clara replied. "Thick one."

He pressed the sword painfully into the side of her neck and she gave a small surprised gasp when she felt it cut her skin and then she heard Rufus shout out, "Idiot, don't damage the collateral!"

Clara smiled as Ron pulled the sword back just as Killian's leg whipped out, dropping the man to the ground, but Killian stumbled as he tried to stand, head shaking against the effects of the powder and Ron was easily out of his grasp. The shock on his face was no less amusing, Clara admired, looking to Killian, who was rubbing a hand at his head. He glanced up at her, piercing eyes meeting hers and he nodded slowly, waiting until she swallowed roughly and nodded back, still feeling the stinging itch of the cut at her throat.

"So where's the bloody map?" Killian spat, pulling himself up and tilting his head towards the two other men coming to join Ron.

Rufus pulled a tattered swath of parchment from his back pocket and unfurled it, handing it over to Killian, who snatch it and glanced over it before shaking his head, "This is… there's nothing here. No one travels here."

"Why don't they?" Clara asked quietly, and he turned to give her a pained look.

Ron was chuckling as he explained, "Sea monsters, milady."

Killian's gaze whipped sharply to the man and he barked, "_You_ don't address the lady on this ship."

Stepping forward, Ron lifted the sword and muttered, "I'll do _what I'd like_ to the lady on this ship."

Arm reaching quickly, Killian put a ringed fist into the man's face and kicked the sword up, catching it and then pressing it to his neck as he grimaced, and when Killian pulled away, seeing the gun Rufus was lifting in his hands, he did it with a quick thin slice that elicted a hiss. "The lady is not to be touched – that is the deal."

Reggie took a shifty silent step forward and Killian offered the blade, turning back to Clara to get a better look at her neck and she smiled deviously, "Chivalry still a thing here," she teased.

He managed a smile, thumb shifting her chin, "I may be a pirate, love, but I'm not a monster."

"No," she sighed, "You're quite the conundrum."

"Says you," he laughed.

"Oi!" Rufus shouted, "Quit jabbering on like a couple of lovesick fools and get to the map."

Turning with a scowl, Killian stretched the map again and he pointed, "This area's been known to sink a ship on a good day – jagged rocks form a maze of destruction; here there are sand dunes, almost impossible to navigate, end up beached and starved to death; and on this side are some of the choppiest waters in the ocean." He glared at them. "Like I said, no one travels here."

Nodding, Rufus poked at the map with the gun and smiled, "So, Jones, what's the best way to the spot."

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "Best way to the spot at the center of the death traps is with pixie dust and happy thoughts, mate."

They all eyed him, Reggie grinning to himself with appreciation, before Rufus raised the gun and fired off a shot in Clara's direction. Killian shouted, turning quickly and clenching his jaw when he saw the bullet embedded in the wood a foot above her head as she looked to the other man in shock – eyes widened to their limit. Whipping his head back, Killian took a step towards Rufus, stopping when the gun shifted to him, and he growled through his teeth, "It'd be best to approach slowly – should the tide be in our favor, we try the dunes; should the winds be calm enough, we can try through the spires; should the sea stand like glass, we circle around and enter with the hopes you haven't angered the gods with your threats against an innocent woman."

Rufus grinned, leaning into him, letting the scalding barrel of the pistol press into the leather at Killian's chest before he muttered, "No god ever bothered to anger himself over a whore."

The fire was instant, like lava through his veins, but so was the rough arm Reggie threw between them, swinging Killian aside with a small shake of his head and a sympathetic look to Clara, telling him quietly, "Just take us to the treasure; I'll make sure the girl is safe."

Looking to the three men on the vessel with them, he nodded shortly and shifted away from the larger man, making his way to the helm to grip tightly, swinging his boat to port and calling boldly, "You've managed to get the ship into the ocean, should I take that to mean you also know how to man one on the open seas?"

They all nodded slowly, Reggie already moving to release another set of sails as Killian looked to Clara, watching what was going on around her with an anxious set of deep breaths, as if calming herself, and he dropped his head slightly – this was why pirates didn't take on women. Clara wasn't prepared for this, he could see it in her eyes as they darted from one man to the next. Raising his hand to her, he gained Reggie's attention.

"Not safe for her to be tied to the mast like that." Then he added, "She needs to be mobile, in case of rogue wave hits, or, heaven forbid, the boat…"

Rufus stepped between them and barked, "You sink the boat, Jones, she goes down with the boat."

"I wouldn't sink the Jolly Roger," Killian told him sternly, brow furrowing angrily, "It's simply unsafe."

"Woman stays tied to the mast for now," Rufus spoke aloud, turning to give both of the other men small nods, as if it were a decision he needed to make sure they both agreed with, and then he looked to Killian, "Sail us safely, Captain."

Meeting Clara's eyes, momentarily appreciative of his attempt, he uttered a low, "Aye."


	15. Chapter 15

They had all sails open and Killian eyed the winds, frowning as Rufus looked out over the ocean. If the current weren't pulling, he would have gone down to talk to Clara, who was growing weary from standing over the past day. Ron or Rufus went to adjust the ropes securing her to the mast every so often and he could see they were making it harder and harder for her to breath and he imagined, soon enough, she'd pass out. He'd seen it happen before, corset tied just a bit too tight for the woman trying to impress royalty.

"Clara," he called, "Alright down there?"

She raised her head wearily and he frowned, seeing the beginnings of a sunburn to her right temple and cheek as she nodded slowly, taking a set of short breaths.

Readying himself for the inevitable answer, he asked anyways, "Could someone loosen her ropes?"

"And let her escape?" Ron barked.

"What's she going to do?" Killian argued.

Ron gestured at Rufus and laughed, "Put up a pretty good fight last time she was cut loose – don't think Rufus wants to give her a shot at a sec…"

Raising a hand, Rufus asked quickly, "Are we getting close, Captain?"

Clara's head dropped back against the mast and she squirmed slightly and Killian tightened his grip on the pegs on the wheel, calling, "Aye, but the winds are strong and the tide is low."

"Then how're we to enter?" Rufus asked.

He rubbed his brow, then laid his palm out open to reply, "We could wait either of them out."

"We could anchor; take the long boat – less chance of damage," Reggie suggested.

Killian shook his head, "Taking the long boat we'd fit, at best, four – not all of us, nor would there be room to return with treasure."

Rufus seemed to consider it, coming to stand beside Clara with a smile and Killian shifted, but a gust tugged the boat to port and he had to adjust. "What do you think, lass? Like to take a trip with the boys?"

"Rather stay with the man," she hissed sharply. Killian managed a smile.

Rufus inched closer to her and he breathed roughly into her face before shifting and telling Killian, "You anchor at the edge of the dunes; you and I will head to the island with Ron; Reggie – you'll stand guard over the wench."

"Call her wench one more time," Killian started.

Rufus laughed, "You'll what?" He looked between them. "The pair of you, more words between you than anything else – suppose you think a quip'll sting like the blade of a sword."

He imagined reaching forward and tearing the man's tongue out with two fingers. Killian imagined him gagging on his own blood, sprawled across the deck, hands to his mouth. And he imagined picking him up and tossing him to the sharks to deal with. That's what he'd do… _if he knew she were safe_.

With a blank smile, Killian turned the wheel and sailed the Jolly Roger towards the sand dunes, calling out for Reggie to drop the sails to slow their approach. He had to take his eye off Clara to steer the boat safetly and soon he watched the larger man dropping the anchor with a point to him to signal they were safetly stopped. He rushed down the steps and took Clara's face in his hands a moment, frowning at the small breaths she was taking and the dotting of sweat at her brow.

"I'm really doing ok, just like hitting the beach on the weekend with the girls," she told him weakly.

"You need water, and air," he added on a huff, bringing his canteen to her lips to offer a long drink. "Once we're off the ship, can she please be untied – or at least tied elsewhere; somewhere shaded…"

Reggie began to nod, but Rufus planted a hand at his chest, "Don't worry so much about her Killian; she'll be back in your care to do with as you'd like just as soon as we're back home with the gold."

"If there's gold to find," he muttered, lifting the canteen again, encouraging Clara to drink.

She was nodding when he pulled away, licking parched lips and telling him quietly, "He's right; don't worry about me – I'll be fine, you worry about yourself and those two. Don't trust the looks they give each other."

He shook his head, and then hung it in shame, telling her on a whisper, "I should never have taken you aboard. Showing off," he laughed to himself, "Never got me anywhere."

Clara smiled and ducked her head slightly, meeting his eyes as he glanced up to tell him, "Just come back alive, alright?"

"Come on!" Rufus shouted, grabbing Reggie and pulling him aside to whisper instructions in his ear. Killian watched the largest of the men give a short nod and then turn to walk past him to Clara, but Killian caught him by the elbow, shifting as the man bent into his face and stared in frustration.

"She needs water," he explained, "And breathing room. The sun can do terrible things to men well accustomed to it, but she's a woman unfamiliar with the sea…" Raising an eyebrow, he told him solemnly, "She could very well die in these conditions."

It might have been an exaggeration, but, Killian knew, it could also very well be the truth. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes; could hear it in her voice over time. He worried less about the quiet giant of a man who slipped out of his grasp with barely a huff of acknowledgement than he would have if she'd been left with Rufus or Ron, but he still worried. Moving towards Rufus, Killian watched the smirk on the other man's face. Was tempted to punch it straight off, but he knew that would result in Clara's death.

"To the longboat then," he uttered.

Clara watched them lower the boat and then climb into it, rowing away until they were a speck amongst the lighter patches of water and she eyed the tall man at her right, watching. She swallowed roughly, and then tried to clear her throat, but ended up coughing in a fit and when she finally recovered, he was standing in front of her, a sword held tightly in his hands.

"Hi," Clara said quickly, voice squeaking, "Hello. Reggie, right?" She smiled, watching his hand grip the handle of the sword with wide eyes. "Reggie, I'm terribly thirsty and…" the words left on a breath and she tried to inhale, grimacing when the ropes pressed painfully into her midsection. "I promise I won't run if you untie me a moment; won't tell your brothers either. I just…" her head hung slightly as she tried again to take a long breath. "Reggie, please," she began, lifting her head and finding him standing with the sword raised.

Reggie shook his head and told her plainly, "Rufus told me to kill you when they were out of sight."

And he swung the sword down.


	16. Chapter 16

He rowed while they watched him, both wearing smug grins on their faces and for a moment, he glanced over his shoulder, back at the speck of his ship in the distance. When he looked again, they were sniggering and he smiled patronizingly at them and then concentrated on rowing. He couldn't shake the terror in his chest that the brother who had been left behind on the Jolly Roger with Clara had no intentions of looking after her and if there hadn't been a gun aimed at his face, he might have turned the long boat around.

"Bit premature to start celebrating, wouldn't you say," he offered lightly with a small tilt of his head to the side and rise of one eyebrow

Rufus nodded, "One celebration at a time."

"Pray tell, what are we celebrating?" He urged, dropping his head slightly as he grunted, rowing them around a shallow point and leading them back over a pool of dark waters.

Ron snorted. "You'll find out soon enough."

Grinding his teeth, he nodded, "Show me your map." They held it up and he glanced around before continuing to row and Killian watched Rufus searching the waters around them and he laughed, "Expecting someone?"

"Don't trust a pirate."

"Good job finding a charter for your mission then, mate, because I make no secret about my dealings," then he shook his head, thinking about the odd device Clara carried with her. If he had a mobile, like she did, he could call her. If they all had that sort of communication, he could have had an armada waiting for them and he could calm the drumming in his chest.

"Just row the boat, Killian," Rufus muttered.

* * *

The sword embedded itself into the mast at her side as a croak of a scream emerged from her mouth and her eyes closed. For a moment she thought maybe he'd missed and he'd be swinging again, but then he shifted forward and tugged at the ropes around her. Collapsing against him, she frowned and shook her head, looking up at Reggie to ask, "What?"

Shrugging his shoulders heavily, he twisted his lips down at her and admitted, "Not really a killer; he forgets sometimes – happens when you're thick."

Clara managed a huff of a laugh as she dropped her head down on Reggie's chest and let her arms weakly clutch around him. She took a few long breaths and on the fourth, she uttered, quietly, "Thank you."

"Oi," he warned, pushing her up and helping her lean, seated, against the mast, "I still have to watch you."

Glancing around, Clara replied, "Where am I going to go?" She gestured up at the helm and admitted, "Don't know how to steer a boat; obviously I can't swim away; and I certainly can't fly."

He smiled, nodding, "But you're a flighty little devil – Rufus ain't givin' you enough credit."

"Oh," Clara groaned, "He's just upset because I punched him in the face… and I'm a girl."

The remark earned her a laugh and the man handed her his canteen and a small package pulled from just inside his vest. "Go on," he urged.

Taking a long drink, eyes closed, Clara dropped her head back against the wood before glancing back down at the item wrapped in cloth and she opened to smile down at a lump of dried bread. She ate slowly, watching Reggie lift up off his knees to walk about the ship before he returned with an oversized brown hat and dropped it on her head with a small laugh as it fell over her eyes.

"You'd make a crummy pirate," he teased.

"You make a crummy thief," she responded, before adding, "The compassion is better suited elsewhere."

He remained silent, standing above her, choosing to work the sword out of the wood and move to lean against the edge of the boat, eyes on the horizon behind them. Clara looked him over, pushing the last piece of bread into her mouth and drowning it with water as she tapped the hat up, grateful for the small bit of shade against the sun despite the fact that it rubbed painfully against the burn on her temple.

"What are you looking for?" She questioned, pulling herself to stand and slowly drag herself to his side.

He nodded out at the ocean, "Looks like we have company."

"Company?" Clara questioned, squinting to look out at the other ship growing in the distance. "More pirates?"

He shrugged, glancing around the empty deck with her before glancing down to meet her eyes with a shake of his head, "We'd better hope not, for both our sakes."

* * *

Killian laughed when he spotted the jagged mountain breaking through the haze that had settled around them and he nodded towards it with a sarcastic, "Land, ho."

Rufus and Ron both snapped their heads around and Killian was tempted to lift an oar and knock them both overboard, but the gun was still aimed at him. A gun, he knew, could probably get a good shot off, even soaked in salt water. The oar knocked against the tip of a mast jutting up from the depths of the ocean beneath them and Killian chanced to peer over the edge, seeing the skeleton of some poor sailor lying in the crow's nest, rope hanging loosely at his waist. His anchor to the vessel that lay in shambles in the shallows.

"Keep an eye on the waters for the remnants of ships, aye?" Killian called. "Wouldn't want to be sunk by the mistakes of lost souls," he muttered.

The men turned and then looked out, seeing what Killian was now aware of. The ocean was a graveyard around them, shadows in the depths, bits of planks floating on the surface, tangled in nets and suspended in time. They helped him steer around the mess of debris until they were guiding him between the corpses of two large ships rotting on their sides towards the sandy beach ahead of them. Bringing the boat ashore, Killian jumped into the waters and dragged the boat through the thick sand before turning to look up at the island with a frown.

"Go on, pirate," Rufus growled, handing him the map and poking at his back with the barrel of the gun as Ron gripped the longer rifle, eyes on the dense forrest spreading out before them. "Find us a treasure so we'll take you back to yours."

A week ago he might have smiled about the thought of sailing off into the sunset on the Jolly Roger, the three men having taken him hostage floating in the waters around him, cut down by his sword. Now he thought of Clara, left in the hands of an untrustworthy brute. With a glance at the instructions on the map, he raised his eyes back to the mountain that sat at the center of the isle and he growled as the men behind him laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

Clara searched the boat under the watchful eye of Reggie, who seemed confused that she'd even want to attempt to fight back. Of course she would: firstly, it was Killian's boat and he would kill her if she didn't attempt to keep it safe; secondly, she certainly wouldn't go down without some sort of fight and, being a woman, going down fighting was probably better. Reggie frowned at her when she looked down at the gun in her hand with a grimace and a glance up at him.

"You've never actually fired a weapon, have you?" he questioned, not in the slightest amused.

Shaking her head honestly, Clara gripped the item and then asked, "Is it loaded? I can't be sure. I mean, bullets in barrels – I understand the concept, but…"

Sighing, Reggie approached her and took the gun, telling her quietly, "Don't fight, milady."

She frowned, shaking her head to look up at him and plea, "You're just going to give up? You're not even going to try?"

"One goal in life – stay alive," he admitted with a quick nod. "That's a ship. Pretty big ship, and I doubt it's going to be manned as sparsely as ours was. No point in fighting; two of us against at least a dozen."

"No point?" Clara cried, finger shooting out towards the ocean, "Killian's out there… your brothers are out there! We don't put up some sort of fight, they'll have no chance."

He laughed lightly, tipping her hat back and watching the small pout it earned him as her head shifted back out of his reach, "I take it back; you'd make a terrible pirate."

She managed a small smile, shoulders slumping before she looked out at the boat now big enough to see the mass of sails lowering to slow its ascent. "You think if we don't put up a fight; they won't kill us."

"Chances are," Reggie supplied, "They're here looking for the same treasure. Way I see it, we could come out ahead on this."

"Howso?" Clara asked, eyes narrowing up at him.

And he smiled, "Not interested in killing you, or your friend – Killian's made a reputation by aiming his anger at an unjust king… questionable actions, to be sure, but not entirely a villain." With a shrug he continued, "So we offer to lead them to treasure, maybe our merry band can overtake them."

"Ambush," she understood. "And you think Killian, Rufus, and Ron would actually work together?"

"I was supposed to put a sword in your skull, remember?" He smiled.

Clara shrugged, looking him over, "You're actually intelligent though. Don't suppose your brothers have a hidden capacity for taking a hint?"

Reggie considered it a moment and then the bellow of a laugh he release startled Clara before he shook his head and tucked the gun into his belt and nodded to her. "Gotta be a scope somewhere on this ship, let's see if we can't get a better look at our company."

"Captains quarters," Clara nodded, "Saw one when I was changing."

She began to move towards the room as Reggie asked quietly, "So you and the captain…"

"Oh," she laughed, "No, no, we… no, I mean," Clara pushed open the door, "He was just taking me out to see the ocean, we aren't…" she shook her head as she clasped onto the telescope and turned to look at the smirk the larger man was giving her. "I mean, we're pretending, but… what?"

Pointing towards the door, Reggie sighed, "The way he told me to take care of you? That weren't pretending."

"Take care of me?" Clara repeated with a small shake of her head.

"Dunno what you're playing at, but Killian's not on the same board."

"No," Clara laughed, "No… shut up," she barked, pushing past him and moving to the edge of the deck to look out at the boat now looming dangerously close and she peered through the scope with a frown. And then she laughed, hand shooting up to wave before she turned back and explained, "It's fine, it's Barnibus!"

Reggie offered a cautious glance, hand at her shoulder to ask, "Barnibus?"

"Runs a pub in the village we were docked at – portly fellow, why are you looking at me like that?"

Taking the scope from her, he peered out to see the man she referred to gesturing at the them and arguing with another man at the helm and he frowned, shaking his head at her, "Runs the town, more like."

With a laugh, Clara nodded, "Yeah, suppose so."

"Generally speaking, round these parts the man who runs the town, runs everything in the town."

Clara nodded, "Generally how that goes, Reggie."

He turned away from the sound of the waves splashing up against the hull of their boat, rocking them gently and advised, "Wouldn't put a lot of trust in him."

"Ordinarily I wouldn't put a whole hell of a lot of trust in a bloke like you either, yet here we are… and Barnibus was nice."

"Nice to a lady in a crowd," he offered, "Puttin' on a show. Like most men."

She eyed him before turning back to the boat now drifting towards them, working on dropping their own anchor as they closed in and she smiled brightly as she watched Barnibus waving at her. "Well, you're a _ruthless thug_," she told Reggie through her clenched smile, "If he's untrustworthy, knock him out or tie him up."

"Lady Clara," Barnibus called as Reggie moved cautiously to hold the plank they set to cross onto the Jolly Roger from their vessel and Clara approached him quickly, stepping on tip-toe to kiss his cheek and accept the small hug he gave her as he told her, "Grateful to see you again."

Nodding, she allowed, "Likewise, Barnibus."

He touched her lip where it sat slightly swollen and then he flicked her hat, "Killian turning you into a proper pirate, I see."

She laughed easily, looking to the disgusted grimace Reggie was giving her as she replied, "Perhaps."

"Where is the lad, anyways – was wanting to have a word with him?"

Clara looked out to the ocean and questioned, "You've come out, all of this way, for a chat?"

"Well," he sighed, "It's pertaining to a certain treasure map someone let slip about in a pub a day ago; knew Killian would be able to resist."

"Ah, so you've come to warn him," Clara posited, hands at her waist, thin grin aimed at the man now coming to join them. She waited, watching Barnibus chuckle softly before slipping a small tube of parchment from his belt and unrolling it to show her the small duplicate of the map Rufus had shown them.

"I've come to split the treasure, love," Barnibus told her cheerfully before pulling the gun to aim it at her, and Clara could see the second man who'd boarded the boat now aiming a rifle at Reggie, "Now be a dear and fetch your husband."


	18. Chapter 18

"Told you," Reggie muttered.

"You shut it," she hissed back, looking from the gun to Barnibus before dropping her hands at her sides and gesturing out at the ocean, "Killian's gone on the long boat to an island just past the shallows – you're more than welcome to follow in your big boat seeing as you've already got a map."

Barnibus shook his head and moved behind her, pushing at her with the barrel of the gun towards the plank and edging her onto it, "Cross, dear – or you'll find yourself falling head first into Davy Jones' locker."

"Typical man," she muttered, turning back to him, "All friendly for the drinks, then stabs you in the back when push comes to shove."

"Typical woman," he grumbled, "Talks a pretty talk and wastes your bloody time – plank, cross!"

Clara felt the barrel push into her spine roughly and she looked once to Reggie before taking the steps across, arms out when a wave rocked both boats. "I don't understand," she began, but he was across with his second henchman to his boat and removing the plank to leave Reggie back on the Jolly Roger.

"Hush your mouth, Jones," he spat at her, raising the gun at Reggie, who'd already taken a running start across the boat towards the ocean on the other side when he finally fired as Clara shouted out. Reggie fell forward and Clara swung out, giving Barnibus a good punch in the gut before she rushed to the opening to scream to the other man. She argued when she was restrained, and continued to watch the man who lay on the deck of the other ship, hoping he'd be able to lift himself up, but he lay still.

"Why did you do that!?" Clara shouted at Barnibus, her eyes watering slightly.

He straightened as he came around to face her, face melted into an expression of surprise, "How dare you strike me!" Lifting a hand, he aimed to backhand her across the cheek, but she leveled an icy stare at him and he took a breath, grunting and letting the hand fall at his side before moving to the helm and shouting, "Hoist the anchor, we're headed into land!"

"You can't," Clara warned.

"That so, lovely?" Barnibus responded with a nod that found Clara being pulled towards a set of barrels held together with netting, wrists tightly wound together in rough rope that burned at her skin, to be secured to it.

The boat began to move and she stumbled, shaking her head and offering, "Killian said the water was too shallow – you'd beach yourself."

Barnibus raised a hand and several men moved to raise the sails. Then he pointed, "I've been on these waters since before you were born, lass, I know how to avoid the shallows."

Clara glanced around, feeling them picking up speed and she shook her head, "Wait, no, untie me."

"And why would I do that?" Barnibus laughed.

She jerked against the rope and hissed at the pain, "Because I don't fancy drowning when you crash this heap into a pile of sand!"

Gesturing at one of his crew members, he barked, "Gag 'er," and the man descended on Clara, tying a rag securely between her teeth before giving her a low laugh and looking her over. "King's Ransom, boys," Barnibus hollered, and Clara looked about wildly as the men cheered.

* * *

Examining the map as they stood in the thick of jungle, breath heavy in their lungs, sweat drenching their clothes, and Killian shook his head and offered, "Shouldn't be too far."

Rufus watched him a moment and then sucked his teeth, tapping the map with a finger and asking him slowly, "So about where's are we, right now?"

Turning the map, Killian pointed, "Clump of green things, look like trees, just next to the skulls." He smiled and walked two fingers over the map, "And now we'll take a few paces towards what will inevitably be a great big heap of disappointment and wasted time."

The gun in the other man's hand shifted up, barrel pressed to the underside of Killian's chin, and he muttered, "You'd better hope we find something shiny or we'll be tossing you into the ocean with your woman."

Killian's brow dropped slightly and he clenched his jaw, "Clara has naught to do with any of this…"

"Don't care," Rufus barked, "You find us the treasure."

They began to move slowly, Killian aware that he had two guns trained on him and had for the better part of the past few hours as they cut their way through the trees. They stayed just far enough from him so he couldn't swing his sword on them and he found himself wondering how his new companion was fairing back on the Jolly Roger. He hoped the oaf they'd left watching over her, at the very least, stood close enough to provide shade.

* * *

Struggling to stay on her feet, Clara fell against the barrels and hung onto them as the ship struck something roughly and tilted as the men shouted. She peered up at Barnibus, who flashed her a scowl of anger before giving orders and turning the wheel in front of him, bringing them back upright. She found herself closing her eyes and breathing a sigh of relief, until she looked out at the waters ahead of them and saw the wreckage of other ships jutting out from the water that lead towards an island.

"Land!" Barnibus called.

Clara pulled at her restraints again and a sword landed with a thump in the wood beside her, snapping a piece of netting and she glared up into the angry eyes of a pirate who snarled, "Tug on those again and we'll free you of your hands alright."

He pulled the sword up and walked away as she stared, wide eyed, and froze to the spot wishing this were all some sort of insane dream she could wake from. Of course, she knew it wasn't, and as Barnibus steered them closer and closer, she listened to the loud dragging sound of something gliding against the underside of the ship and she took in the growing apprehension of the crew.

"Barnibus, please," she mumbled through the gag, "We'll all die!"

Of course, he only sneered at her and she shook her head, falling when they collided with something that turned the ship completely. Clara did a small flip, wrists twisting painfully as she went, and suddenly there was a commotion as a splash of cold water slid easily up the deck towards her. They began to straighten but just as they did, Clara realized the crew were abandoning ship and she picked herself up, clutching the barrels at her side, to see that they were sinking.


	19. Chapter 19

Clara was able to take one long breath before she slipped under the water. The salt stung her eyes as she opened them and began to tug again at the ropes binding her wrists, frustrated that the barrels hadn't begun to float to the surface but had, instead, continued sinking with the ship. And she let out a small yelp through the gag when a thick arm wrapped around her waist, turning to find Barnibus nodding slowly at her before he shifted forward and used a dagger to saw through restraints.

They rose slowly to the surface, her ears popping painfully, and when they broke the surface, she choked, coughing against the gag in her mouth and trying to get air in through her nostrils as Barnibus began to swim. She hung against him, hands still tied together, acutely aware of how much danger she was in, and then suddenly he stopped.

"What?" She mumbled

"Sand dune," he replied quietly, "Catching my breath – you're small, but you're still a weight, darling."

She tried to look down into the water, assuming his feet could touch the floor since hers were still floating beneath her, and then she jerked as his hand touched her face, snapping away just as quickly. Clara glared, but he gestured at her gag and then slowly pulled it free and she took a long breath and coughed out the remaining water, spitting the salt as best she could from her mouth.

"Untie me, I can swim," she explained and, to her surprise, he lifted the dagger and began to cut away at the ropes at her wrists until he could release her and she floated a few feet from him, turning in the water to find the island she knew looked closer than it was. "Why did you untie me?"

The question made the other man laugh as he glanced around and replied, "Sharks."

Clara's legs went still, arms wading gently at her sides as she peered around and repeated, "Sharks?"

"Only fair I untie you – at least give you a fighting chance."

Nodding slowly, she glanced around, "Where are the rest of the crew?"

"Ones who didn't get taken down with the ship are either making their way to that island or…" he trailed.

"Sharks," she said knowingly before looking back to the island. "So… race you?"

He chuckled and then shrugged. "Go on, Mrs. Jones."

And slowly, they began to swim.

* * *

"You do realize we're probably not the first to come looking for this treasure," Killian told them both bluntly, cutting through another thick patch of palm fronds. "Chances are, even if there were something to find, someone else would have found it by now."

But Ron laughed as Rufus replied, "This treasure? Someone brings this home they wouldn't stop telling everyone about it – we'd be searching for men to kill instead of an island to ransack."

Acknowledging the truth in the statement with a simple, "Aye," Killian glanced back at them and suggested, "Suppose you stop aiming your weapons at me and we agree to split the loot?"

"What are you bargaining with, Jones?" Rufus spat on a laugh.

Turning and grinning, he sighed, "You know the woman isn't my wife; simply another bargain, so using her as leverage wouldn't work in the long run. How about we make an actual deal here? A tracker's fee; ten percent?"

Rufus and Ron exchanged a glance and then Rufus stepped forward, snapping the map out of Killian's hands, "How far?"

"Not far," Killian said lowly.

"More specific."

Pointing, he allowed, "Just over that hill."

Rufus laughed, "The woman wasn't a bargaining tool, Killian – she was excess baggage we're glad to be rid of; the real bargain is your life… you do prefer parting at the end of this journey still breathing, don't you?"

He clenched his jaw and asked quietly, "Glad to be rid of?"

"Not your wife?" Rufus spat, and Killian understood he'd read the anger in the question he'd asked. Knew there no real way to disguise the rage in his eyes at the thought of Clara floating lifelessly in the water and he turned away. "Just lead us to the treasure, mate – we'll be out of your hair soon enough."

With a small smirk, he lifted his head and nodded, then moved to continue walking and as soon as he felt their momentum shift in his direction, he turned quickly and gripped the gun in Rufus's hand and twisted it away. The shot rang out and Ron grunted as it clipped his side and Killian used the panic to punch the man in his grasp in the face and take off into the trees towards the beach.

"You idiot!" Ron shouted, hand gripping his side as Rufus straightened, fingers rubbing at his jaw before he moved to follow, "Where ya goin' – treasure's over the hill."

Taking a step forward, Rufus slapped Ron hard across the face and point, "And the long boat is on the beach!"

* * *

Clara was panting by the time she collapsed on the sand, forehead pressing into the warm substance gladly and she could hear the large man at her side sloshing to a stop as well. Despite the exhaustion, she picked up her head and counted the eight others who had made it before them, now rushing towards them from where they'd been looking into the jungle.

Her hands were immediately seized and Clara shouted out when they twisted one arm behind her back as they lifted her to stand, but she heard Barnibus call out weakly, "Leave her be."

Dropping back onto the ground with a grunt, Clara crawled away, listening to the laughter behind her with a burning in her chest. She had just reached the grass when she heard the stomping crashing her way and she pulled herself up to stand just as Killian came bursting out of the jungle and collided with her roughly, taking them both into the dry sand with a shared humph.

"You're alive," he breathed and she opened her eyes to see the smile that spread brightly on his face just before he crushed his lips to hers and for just one moment she released a breath and gripped at the red vest at his chest, thankful for the familiar face.

Then she felt the nudge of a boot at her shoulder and heard Barnibus call down, "Lovely reunion, really…"

And before he could finish the sentence, Rufus and Ron came stumbling out of the jungle, guns raised, and pointed them at the nine men standing with their guns leveled at them. Killian shifted atop Clara, glancing from one set of men to the other and he sighed down at her, "It'd be romantic, were it not for impending death."


	20. Chapter 20

"He's ours," Rufus barked immediately.

"Kill them," Barnibus argued.

"No!" Clara shouted.

"What?" Killian hissed. "Clara, love…"

"No," she repeated, pushing him off her and struggling to stand. "No, this is ridiculous." She looked between the men and then she looked out to sea before telling them all, "There's a supposed treasure somewhere on this island and there's no reason why we have to kill each other for it!"

Killian raised a hand slowly, eyebrow raised as he exchanged a curious glance with Barnibus, "Clara, love," he repeated, "Sort of how piracy works."

"And that is why there are no more pirates!" She shouted, turning to point a finger into his chest. "You lot, killing one another… stealing and then getting caught and hung. For once. _Just once_, could you share a treasure!"

Rufus smiled and was the first to explain, "It's not really in our nature to share, _wench_."

Killian turned swiftly and punched him roughly, standing over him as Ron raised the rifle and Clara moved to stand between the two men, edging Killian back out into the sand.

Tapping Killian on the shoulder, Barnibus offered, "If I may," and then addressed Clara quietly, "It's a nice idea, Mrs. Jones, but seein' as there's one long boat… even if we agreed – the man is right… not in our nature."

"So you'll just kill one another," she stated, watching them all think it over, shrugging and nodding. Clara shook her head and then walked a few steps away, shoes sinking into the sand beneath her as she sighed, "_They're like bloody children_."

Taking a cautious step towards her as the men around him trained their guns on him, Killian slipped a hand around her waist to urge her back with a simple, "Clara."

Rufus brandished his map, "He's the only one who's been able to read the map; tell us where the treasure is – I say we torture the woman until he…"

"Map's rubbish," Barnibus barked, "There's no treasure marker, so Jones can't know where the treasure is."

He closed his eyes as Clara looked to him to ask, "Is that true?"

When he looked back down at her, he shook his head, "No," then he glanced up, "There's no treasure marker – that is true – but that's because the treasure is the island." He nodded up towards the blackened mountain at the center, "That's the treasure."

"Now you're mad," Ron spat, shifting forward as Killian raised an arm to keep Clara behind him.

"Pyramid of rooms, blackened with time, covered by the elements," Killian nodded, "That's the gold you're looking for. So you and your brothers can chip away at it all you'd like, but you're never getting it off the island."

Rufus began to think it over, smile starting to tug at his lips when he straightened and shook his head, looking over the men behind Barnibus before barking, "Where's Reggie?"

Clara cringed and her grip on Killian tightened and he understood instantly.

"Big bloke you left guarding the woman?" Barnibus laughed. "Left him on the Jolly Roger; bit holier now, I suppose."

Ron raised his gun and fired and Killian grabbed Clara, pulling her down to shield her underneath him as the explosions rang out behind them. After a moment, Killian heard the muted click of a gun being sheathed and he turned to see Ron and Rufus lying in the thin grass. He turned to look at Clara, hands clasped to her ears, eyes pinched shut, breath ragged as she waited, and he gave her a small shake.

"It's ok," he told her gently. "Clara, it's ok."

"No," she cried, "It's not ok; I want to go home."

With a nod, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as he looked up to Barnibus, "I promised I'd get her home; she doesn't belong here – please… don't hurt her."

"Not your wife then," the man uttered slowly.

He shook his head and supplied honestly, "Just a lost girl trying to find her way…" he trailed as she turned and began to pick herself up, dusting the sand off the dress with a set of sniffles before raising her chin in a stubborn determination that made him grin absently. "Please," he repeated, "Don't hurt her."

With a small nod, Barnibus gestured to the mountain looming over them, "Won't hurt her so long as you take us to the base of the mountain."

He raised a hand, dropping it heavily to complain, "There's no treasure, Barnibus."

"You know as well as I do that there is." The man reached out and grabbed Clara by the wrist, squeezing into her rope burns painfully as he tugged her towards him and added, "You want her to get home, Jones? You lead me to that mountain and the door you know exists." He narrowed his eyes at him and hissed, "Think you never been just a smidge too drunk in my pub, Captain? Let slip little nuggets of information here and there I was able to put together… just waiting for the right time?"

Killian looked over the six men who remained behind him, saw the wounds two of them were nursing, and he looked back to the long boat. He knew, without question, Barnibus would shoot anyone who stood in the way of him getting the gold back to the Jolly Roger. Killian also knew, sadly, that Clara would be claimed as part of that treasure – a golden egg that could keep on giving back at the brothel whether she wanted to or not – and he felt himself growing hot at the neck.

Slowly, he nodded, "Base of the mountain; doors to the prize," he smiled.

Then he locked eyes with Clara, seeing the unease there, and he gave her a small grin, a small acknowledgement of her fear and a silent promise. He would get her off this island and safely back to her home, even if he had to sacrifice himself to do it. Killian watched as she shook her head slightly in response, to his amusement, because he knew she thought his life was worth more than he knew it to be. And the notion fueled his legs to turn and begin leading them forward.


	21. Chapter 21

The two wounded took longer to drop than Killian had expected and a third expired after an unexpected fight with a poisonous snake that had them all searching their steps before taking them. Clara moved hesitantly beside the larger man she'd previously assumed might have been just a nice old man and she glared up at him occasionally, knowing she'd always had a penchant for being too trusting.

"_Clara Oswald, what have I told you about talking to strange men_."

She could hear her mother's voice, clear as day after she'd strolled up to a swing to sit next to an oddity of a man she could barely remember now. He'd lost a friend – that's all she remembered – and he'd been sad. Wasn't that her weakness? A sad smile and a lonely heart. Glancing ahead at Killian, she smirked. Maybe a long coat and a complex conundrum.

"How far?" Barnibus asked, shoving Clara forward when she'd slowed.

Turning, Killian nodded, "Not far." He gestured upwards, at the mountain looming over them before looking Clara over knowing she had to be exhausted. He was surprised she'd lasted this long in the heat with little water after the past few days. If he could get her back home, he would find a way to repay her for her troubles. Bowing his head, he kicked at the ground and then stopped, kneeling and rummaging through the foilage as Barnibus and what remained of his men stopped.

Smiling, he plucked at the items he'd spotted and offered, "Why not stop a moment, catch our breaths?"

"So close to…"

"Yes," Killian interrupted, straightening to turn and hand him several gold coins, "So close."

With a crooked smile, Barnibus nodded and released his grip on Clara to examine the gold and she quickly hopped the distance to Killian, glad to have the pressure of his palm at the small of her back to usher her towards a fallen palm tree to sit. He looked over her temple and his knuckle hovered over the hot skin in desperate need of aloe and she grimaced. Then his hands fell to her lap, lifting hers before testing her knuckles and slipping something cool onto her ring finger with a small uptick of the left corner of his mouth.

"What?" She whispered, glancing down at the small gold band now sitting around her skin. She lowered her brow and smiled up at him, giving him a shake of her head.

He sighed as he took her in and then looked away, knowing there would be no point in indulging in the notion that she'd have been interested in anything more than a casual tryst. Killian chuckled, "Small token," he told her softly before reaching for his water and handing it to her. "Drink."

"How are we going to escape this?"

The words were barely audible, almost a breeze on his ear just before she took a sip of water and he glanced up at her curiously, "Hate to break it to you, pet, but there are still four men with guns and swords aimed at our heads. If we're lucky they shoot us _mercifully_ before they depart."

"They could strand us here," she nodded.

"Always an option," he laughed, "Left to die of starvation."

Clara shook her head and glanced around, "Nah, I bet we'd survive."

With a small shake of his head, he breathed, "Always the optimist."

Giving him a smirk, she shrugged and replied, "What's living without far-flung hopes and improbable dreams and the notion that maybe, just maybe, they're possible."

"You'll make a good man out of your husband one day."

Coyly, she ducked her head and touched the ring on her finger, "Haven't I though?"

Killian closed his eyes to smile as she nudged his shoulder with her own and he finally chuckled, looking up at her – at this impossible woman – and he shook his head, beginning to ask if she'd take him as such when Barnibus stepped in front of them and barked, "Alright, Captain, lead on."

Hanging his head a moment, he nodded and stood, raising a hand to Clara, who took it and moved with him, thankful Barnibus hadn't secured her to his side again. She fell in step with Killian, pushing branches out of her face and watching the ground for snakes as he glanced around until his boot crunched on something and when he gestured down, Barnibus smiled. The ground was now littered with bits of gold within the grass and Clara shook her head, asking quietly, "I don't understand, if this is all just sitting out here, how come no one's found it?"

"Because most believe it to be a legend," he replied watching the men with Barnibus begin to pick at the coins around then, "That's the first map I've ever seen to it – I imagine not many were made and most were destroyed," he tapped his head, "Only map most pirates trust."

"Take it to the grave with you," Clara understood with a nod, "So, have you ever been here before?"

He glanced sideways at her, at the curiosity in her eyes before he sighed, "Yes."

Her voice dropped lower to ask, "Is that why Rufus knew you'd know how to get here?"

Sighing, he repeated, quietly, "Yes." She only nodded and Killian raised an arm, "Your pearly gates lie ahead, gentlemen."

Barnibus moved forward quickly and Killian shifted sideways as the other three followed suite, reaching into the thick of vines and roots that covered a wooden doorway. Giving Clara's hand a small squeeze, Killian took another step backwards as the men ahead of them began slamming their shoulders into the mess, grins spreading when the old wood cracked.

"Clara," Killian whispered, "I'm going to ask you to do something you're not going to like."

She nodded to him, replying quietly, "You want to make a run for the long boat."

He glanced down as she gave him a wide grin and an weary bop of her head before Killian turned swiftly, her hand tightly in his, and they tore off into the jungle.


	22. Chapter 22

The first gunshot burst the bark of a tree at Killian's right and he inhaled, jumping a hissing snake as Clara cried out just beside him. He knew he was crushing her hand, but his heart was hammering in his chest and he refused to slow, tempted to lift her into his arms to carry her towards the sand he knew sat too far away. Behind them Barnibus and the other three men were making their way through the jungle, each firing off shots at random and Killian could only hope they would run out of bullets before capturing him.

With a half laugh, he considered that at least in a hand-to-hand competition, he'd stand a chance… and maybe Clara could… help? Glancing at her, eyes wide as she refused to take her eyes off the horizon, he decided she would be a force in a fight; he decided with her at his side he couldn't lose. Of course, he also considered he hadn't been free of trouble since finding her.

"Killian!" Barnibus shouted out.

He didn't stop, simply jumped a log and listened to the small noise of effort Clara gave to make it over as quickly as she had to to keep up with him. The trampling behind them was getting louder and he cursed under his breath knowing if he released her – if he let Clara go – he could escape with little effort. And for a moment, glancing down at her, dress bunched up in her fist, face reddened with exertion, he considered it.

_What sort of husband would I be_, he argued with himself, _so willing to leave her behind_?

_She's not your wife_, he reminded himself.

_She could be_, he considered.

Clara tripped suddenly, sending her rolling into the grass at his side and Killian stumbled with her before grabbing hold of her shoulders, hands awkwardly searching for her arms to pull her back up as she shook her head and mumbled, "No, _you go_, go on!"

Dragging her up, he responded roughly, "Not a chance, Clara," and he glared to express the finality of his answer before she could protest.

They continued on, both ducking when another set of shots rang out from behind them. "Killian, doesn't have to end like this," Barnibus breathed.

_Good_, Killian thought, _old man's_ _tiring out_. Clara glanced up at him and he almost laughed – she was considering giving that man another chance. He was tempted to shout at her, to call her incredulous and mad, but his feet dug into softer earth and he trudged forward, yanking her with him until they stumbled blindly back into the harsh sunlight and fell into the white sand.

"Get to the long boat, Clara," he shouted.

She was nodding, trying to lift herself up, but finding it difficult in the small heels she was wearing. Killian lifted his head as Barnibus emerged from the jungle, gun raised at Clara, and just as he fired off a shot, he was tackled into the ground unexpectedly.

"Reggie?" Killian managed.

He watched the man, soaked by the sea, bits of green weeds hanging off his shoulders, pounding into the man underneath him a moment. And then he heard Clara let out a small gasp of surprise and he glanced down at her, sitting up just at his feet, left hand rising slowly to touch her right shoulder and he could see the blood working its way down the sleeve of her dress.

Inching forward, he called hesitantly, "Clara?"

She didn't respond, only looked up to the three men who now came to a stop at the sand, and then to where Reggie was still pounding away at Barnibus. She couldn't tell whether the older man was dead or unconscious, but Clara desperately wanted the world to stop spinning. Quietly, voice hushed and frightened, she called out, "Stop, Reggie. _Please_, stop."

The man's fists slowed, and she began to crawl towards him, wincing, right arm bent to curl just under her breasts and Killian moved to stop her, but she reached up and grabbed the larger man by the waist. Reggie's bloodied fist halted in mid-air and he turned to look down at her, the rage in his eyes softening as he looked her over and then shook his head, "Miss, you've been shot."

Clara laughed lightly, eyes disappearing into amused slits, and then looked back to Killian, "A pirate shot me, Kill…" her voice faded and she fainted.

The three men began to shift forward, guns raised, but Reggie stood to full height and they cowered, seeing Barnibus unmoving beneath him. "You'd been killed," Killian offered.

Reggie turned back to him and shook his head, "No, sir. I was shot."

"Bloody sharks, mate," Killian gestured out into the ocean, "How did you…"

"I didn't say I was wounded," Reggie muttered. "Vest's pretty thick," he explained, dropping down beside Clara as Killian bent to listen to her heartbeat, "Your woman alright?"

With a frown, he shook his head, "We need to get her back to the Jolly Roger. I can…" he began, tugging at the shoulder of her dress to reveal the ragged hole there, "I can sterilize this, remove the bullet, patch her up…" his words got caught in his throat – he'd never thought of the pain of a bullet wound before; knew it was because it was her that he'd even stopped to consider it.

It would be excruciating.

He suddenly wanted to be back in her world and he chuckled to himself before Reggie gave him a rough shove that sent him onto his backside. "Don't laugh at her pain," he growled.

Setting his jaw tightly, he shifted back up and slipped his arms underneath her knees and neck and lifted her, telling him, "In her land – _where she's from_ – they're not as barbaric; it was an _ironic_ laughter. There she wouldn't worry about the irrational ways of a pirate, but there – I have no doubt – would exist the means to cure her with less pain and fewer scars."

Reggie stood beside him, hands out to balance Killian as he stood with Clara in his arms. "She's lost quite a bit of blood for a woman so small."

He understood what the man meant and he dropped his head slightly, uttering lowly, "I wish Clara had never come here."

And like a crack of lightning, the Blue Fairy floated before them, look of reproach staining her face.


	23. Chapter 23

"_You_," the fairy breathed. "She's not supposed to be with _you_."

Killian glanced aside and then at the winged creature hovering in front of him and he gestured at Clara, adjusting her lightly in his arms before shaking away the odd accusation and he questioned, "Every legend says you're the most powerful fairy; can you help her?" He shrugged, "Heal her; send her home; _make things right_."

"Do you know how I came to be here?" She asked him peculiarly.

He shook his head, looking down at Clara and then back up at her. "I wished."

With a nod, she supplied, "It's not a simple wish that can bring me, Killian – it was a wish from the heart; a heart I was afraid had gone with your brother." Gesturing at Clara, the Blue Fairy questioned, "This woman has woken your heart Killian, but I'm afraid your wish will close that back up."

Killian swallowed hard and told her bluntly, "My heart or her safety – I'd choose her safety; _always_."

She smiled, "You're not as lost as I'd thought."

"Oh," he laughed, light sniffle as he continued, "I'm definitely lost." Then he dropped his eyes to look over her pale face, reddened by the sun and he asked, "Can you make this right?"

The fairy considered him and then shifted closer, hovering over the woman and washing her face in a the blue glow of her wings before whispering, "Time can be rewritten."

Killian stared, a bit of understanding dampening his heart before he asked quickly, "How do you mean?"

"Two points in time and space," she gestured between Clara and Killian, "That never should have met." She glanced again at Clara, as if curious, and offered, "She shouldn't have come here and I can make it that way, turn you both back, steer you through your portal to your rightful place."

He felt his knees go weak as he stated, "We'll _never_ have met."

"Old trick from the Time Lords," the Blue Fairy sighed, "It's dangerous to meddle with time." She nodded to Clara, "This woman has other things to do; more important things."

He smiled, "More important than me." He then laughed and looked to Clara, "Milady would disagree."

"Do you?" The Blue Fairy asked.

Raising his head again, he shook it and clenched his jaw to smother the grin from his face before nodding, "Do what has to be done."

"You won't remember her."

"Do what has to be done."

"She won't remember you," she added.

With another shake of his head, he looked to Reggie and then to Barnibus and he steeled himself to repeat again, "Do what has to be done."

The Blue Fairy raised her wand slowly and smiled to the man now looking over Clara's face, as if he could memorize her – as if he could retain her in his mind somehow – and she smiled. "There is a better future for you, Killian," she allowed. "It comes after great heartache; after great sorrow; but the path is open to you, should you choose to follow it."

He laughed, "Would it take me to her?"

Merely smirking, the Blue Fairy told him, "It will take you to your happy ending."

"Pirates," he began slowly, "Villains," he added, "Not really who happy endings are made for."

"You're a hero," Clara told him weakly, angrily, eyes opening slowly to blink up at him before turning and sighing, "That's a fairy."

"Believe in them now, Clara?" He questioned with a small laugh.

She nodded, eyelids drooping as she smiled.

"I'm no hero, love," he whispered down at her with a wink.

Clara lifted her left hand off her stomach and backhanded him with a wince.

Watching them continue to bicker quietly, the Blue Fairy lifted her wand and a bag of pixie dust and sighed, "You two…" before striking them both with a blast of magic.

* * *

Clara laughed aloud and reached out to stop her friend from leaving the booth, "Nina, no, _no_, you're not just going to pluck yourself a new set of regrets we'll be talking about tomorrow!"

With a frown, Nina nodded and dropped back against the plush cushions that gave a tired wheeze. "Maybe just back to the flat for a good sleep."

Reaching out to take the tops of her hands, Clara told her firmly, "Good sleep, good cry, and some tea."

Nina laughed, and turned her palms up so Clara could clasp her hands, giving her friend a small nod of assurance. They would go back to Nina's; she would put a kettle on, listen to her cry just a bit more, and once she'd fallen asleep, she would lock up and head home to rest her own eyes, suddenly far too weary for a night out drinking with her heartbroken friend.

"Come on," she offered, tilting her head towards the door and for a moment, she stopped, staring up at it, almost waiting.

"'S'wrong," Nina asked, looking between the door and Clara, "Look like you've seen a ghost?"

Giving her head a small shake, Clara pushed herself out of the booth and waited until Nina was at her side to begin making their way to the door. It gave a jingle as she exited and Clara glanced up, still feeling an odd feeling that something was wrong – so much so that she bumped roughly into a man muttering something about impossible things and she shouted, "Oi, watch it."

"Sorry!" the man in the tweed replied, one arm rising in an crooked wave.

Clara shook her head and looked to Nina, falling back into her side as they laughed.

* * *

The Jolly Roger popped out of the portal and slowly coasted towards the port. He rubbed at his brow and looked over his ship with a sigh – he'd need a new crew of men, easy enough… and he knew exactly where to find them.

Ship anchored, he set his sights on the local village, strolling over cobbled streets as the sun set on the horizon until he entered the tavern, following familiar shouts and songs. With a smile, he glanced over the faces of many eager to set sail and then they landed upon a brunette who grinned shyly back at him.

There was something familiar, he thought, shaking it away as he approached her. Something about the dress and the long flowing dark tresses. "Hello, pet," he murmured, "Fancy a drink?"

With a small nod and the flash of a grin, the woman replied, "Fancy a ride out of this heap, more like." She sighed and looked him over openly, "Look like a sea man, got a tale for a bored bar maid?"

"You remind me of someone," he told her, giving her a grin and a narrowing of his eye.

She laughed, "Really? Who?"

Killian tried to remember, but the ghost of a memory was fading. Her name and face drifting farther and faster out of his reach than he could search, so he merely shrugged, "Let's have a drink and I'll be sure to entertain..."

"Milah," she offered lightly.


	24. Chapter 24

March 2014

Clara peered up at the tops of buildings, eyes narrowed against the sunlight peeking in between the skyscrapers and she turned swiftly to the lanky man at her side examining a newspaper with a frown. Always a frown, she considered, and she knew their little daytrip into New York would turn into something else. Of course, he was also worried about the stability of the fabric of time in Manhattan and their proximity to that with the Tardis.

He'd muttered something about a test run.

_Maybe he'd see friends_.

"Doctor, you're missing the sights."

He waved a hand, "New York, 2014; seen it."

She shrugged, "Maybe I can find someone else then; someone a little more interested in showing me the sights – giving me a tour; taking me for a boat ride along the harbour."

Straightening, the Doctor smiled, "Do you fancy a boat ride, Clara?"

Sighing, she looked over his face – the distance in his eyes, trying desperately to juggle some remnant of his past with the woman in front of him – and she shook her head. "I bet you've been on a ship, sailed over the ocean, seen the seas of countless planets."

"Pirates," he nodded, "It's always pirates. Rowdy bunch, always looking for trouble and – _mind you_ – finding it in droves, moreso than any treasure they happen to be after. Did I ever tell you about the siren that turned out to be a spaceship's medical system reaching out into a breach in the universe? Plucked the pirates right off their ship – _plucked my Tardis_…"

Clara laughed, "Doctor, how about we find a tour boat. Sort shaped like ducks."

He stopped, smiling eagerly, "I like the duck shaped boats. They encourage quacking; I enjoy the quacking."

"You would," she snorted as they continued walking.

The Doctor folded the newspaper and tucked it to his side, grinning when she wove her arm through his as they moved and he raised a finger to ask if she'd ever been to see Time Square when a man in a long leather coat pushed between them, turning to mutter an apology before his eyes landed on Clara and he froze, paper gripped in his hand, frustrated look on his face fading. Replaced with one of contemplative nostalgia.

"I'm sorry," he told her with a shake of his head.

"Do I know you?" Clara asked, head tilting, and she could see the Doctor eyeing her and then looking to the new man who was still looking her over.

The Doctor gave Clara a small tug, offering, "We're in New York; you've never been to New York – you can't know one another."

She turned and gave him a swift rise of one eyebrow, allowing, "Never saw you before you showed up with my name on your lips."

"Clara," Killian managed, giving his head a shake, as though the name had somehow been dropped into it heavily before he smiled and offered a small chuckle, "Sorry, first thing…"

She pointed, "Killian."

The Doctor's eyes went wider as he asked, "It's like an awkward psychic party where no one knows they're psychic and everyone's uncomfortable, especially the uninvited guest."

"What?" They asked.

"Nothing, sorry, can we help you?" The Doctor asked, gesturing at the paper in Killian's hand.

He jerked slightly, still sneaking looks at Clara before he unfolded it and offered it to the Doctor, "Was looking for… was looking for an old friend – managed to get an address from one of these _Yellow Pages_ books, but these old sea legs aren't accustomed to the complexities of villages this large." He laughed nervously, "Her name is Emma. Emma Swan." Looking to Clara, he continued, "If you could please help me; I've been searching for quite some time and it's fairly important."

"Dire circumstances," the Doctor supplied with a laugh. "These old space legs are very accustomed to those complexities."

"But not to New York," Clara scoffed.

"Nonsense," he waved at her, studying their location, eyes narrowed now against the sun as he examined the street signs and Clara smiled because she knew he hadn't been paying attention and she knew she should tease him about it, but she was curious about the fellow waiting patiently, a look of longing in his eyes.

"Lost love," she offered.

His eyes came up to meet hers, and then he smiled. It was natural and honest and it made Clara's heart skip a beat because she knew that smile. She hid it behind her lips daily. "Haven't seen her in some time."

"Well," the Doctor interrupted, "You're on the right path."

Clara and Killian both turned to look at him, both with perplexed looks, as though they'd suddenly remembered something they'd forgotten before it fluttered away again and Killian finally asked, "I'm heading in the right direction then?"

With an awkward smile and another look between his companion and the pirate, he nodded, "Should be that building, just a few blocks up the street."

Taking the paper back as the Doctor handed it to him, Killian nodded his appreciation and just before departing, he took another lingering look at Clara, then ducked his head and broke into a jog. "Good luck," she whispered.

The Doctor turned and caught her turning the skin at her ring finger, brow furrowed together in contemplation and he shifted to stand between her and the other man, lifting his Sonic to give her face a buzz and when she snapped out of it and met his eye, now looking confused, he nodded slowly. "Good, was beginning to think your mind had slipped."

"Because yours never wanders," she teased.

"Oh, aimlessly," he replied with a laugh before pocketing the Sonic and clapping his hands, "Tour of the harbour, what do you say?"

Clara giggled when he put out one hand, eager grin on his lips, and she passed one last look at the pirate in the distance before letting that secret smile drift onto her lips for him as she replied, "Yo ho."

End.


End file.
